Catching Up
by CherishCherries
Summary: He is playing a dangerous game and she will not be a pawn. There is too much at stake. Neither of them has ever entered into a battle of wills quite like this. Four: Wherein a man's thoughts are being untangled.
1. One

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or claim to own the story or associated characters of Eiichiro Oda's "One Piece". No profit is gained from the writing and publishing of this story, no copyright infringement intended. Should this story be deemed offensive by either the legal owners and/or representatives of One Piece, Mr Oda or this website, respectively, the story will of course be taken down immediately with full apologies extended.

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**Notes**: This story takes place approximately 8 months after Punk Hazard. I will try not to completely ignore what happens in this arc but for the sake of this plot bunny, some canon facts will be bent this or that way. I will try to keep everyone in character – try, okay? But this is fanfiction, so please cut me some slack here.

A huge thank you to **Kinjiru**, author of the Heart Pirate centered drabble collection **_Heart Log_** (also to be found in my favorites, hint hint) for constructive criticism, invigorating discussions of all One Piece related subjects and willingly lent services as a skilled and thoughtful beta reader!

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**One.**

_Wherein two pirates meet to share a drink._

Impel Down was as cold and bleak as ever, but even the most recent inmate of level 6 wasn't bothered by it. Not anymore, that is. She had gotten quite easily used to being chained down and behind bars, maybe because her childhood hadn't been all that different from the things she was experiencing now. The spilled food (when it wasn't laced with drugs), the insults slung into her direction, the mockery and the leers - this jail was more tangible than the one she'd known as a girl (in more ways than she cared to count), but being caught here felt the same as it had back then. The fact that she had been given an entire cell for her lonesome self - which had absolutely nothing to do with her being the only woman incarcerated on level 6 - only reinforced the feeling. She was trapped and alone.

Alright, those manacles _had_ taken a few days getting used to, she'd admit that much.

But solitary confinement was alright with the woman. It was the way she liked it although there was no way in hell (not 'no way in Impel Down' because the jail was horrible, but a true hell, Nami knew, was even worse) she would allow anyone to become prone to this knowledge.

It was her status as the navigator of the (infamous and notorious) Straw Hat Pirates that had gotten her the cell hidden deep in Impel Down's stone-cold bowels, not her meager bounty of 16 million belli. Which was a bit of an inside-joke among the other level 6 inmates. Nami had learned to ignore their jibes about how they were letting just anyone into the high-security levels. Their mockery was less of an attempt to insult her and motivated by the need to prove themselves 'more' to the woman. Her alliance, combined with the fact that her captain was the only one to successfully break into Impel Down _and_ leave it again, guaranteed her a special treatment. More so than her involvement in the destruction of Enie's Lobby, her captain's assault on the world aristocrats or her contribution in her crew's war against the world government.

_Those _were just the icing on the cake.

Another, much more prominent factor was the circumstance that the world government apparently hadn't yet decided what to do with her, or so she was told. On the one hand, Nami knew her crimes against the government and her alliance were more than enough to warrant a death sentence. On the other hand, it was pretty obvious that she was a wonderful bait for her captain and nakama. The navigator was certain that her fate was closely tied to whatever plans were currently being hatched with the goal of taking out Monkey D. Luffy and his crew. There was also the fact that Impel Down really couldn't take another surprise attack courtesy of the Straw Hat. Especially if he brought his crew along for the ride and who knew how many pirates, bound to make an appearance just because the exuberant supernova was going to be there. And although her nakama hadn't so much as lifted a finger to reclaim their navigator that didn't mean they weren't going to do so in the future.

Even reinforced as it was now, the high security prison was unwilling to take any risks where the Straw Hats were concerned: who knew what inane abilities the crew's infamous Monster Trio had obtained in the meantime? No one, least of all the current prison warden_,_ was eager to see how the reinforced security would hold up to that test. And this had everything to do with absolutely no one, not even the person who had _designed_ the new security measures, believing that they'd do Impel Down any good against the one crew they hoped to keep out. Which was kind of ironic considering Impel Down's purpose.

Nami assumed that this was also one of the reasons why her (obligatory) trial and sentence had not yet taken place: after the destruction of Marineford and the chaos they had wrought in the New World, officials weren't eager to rush legal proceedings against any affiliate of Monkey D. Luffy without sufficient preparations in place. Luffy had the uncanny ability to make loyal friends in the unlikeliest of places; loyal _powerful _friends.

So instead, they kept her locked away and her fate undecided until whatever scheme they were planning could be set into motion. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. _S_he estimated almost two had passed since she'd taken up residence. And just as she'd known it began to dawn on her captors that no one was going to come to safe her just yet_. _Terror turned into habit - on both sides of the bars.

The longer she remained captive, the less cautious they became, less spooked they seemed to be by her and her crew. Some of the prison guards were starting to believe that they might just get away with imprisoning a Straw Hat... Yet there was no talk about moving her to one of the lower levels. The prison warden - on principle - refused to take any risks with regard to Nami.

And then there was Sadi-Chan. Or rather: there was a distinct _lack_ of Sadi-Chan.

Impel Down didn't tread lightly for its prisoners' sakes and Sadi-Chan was a regular visitor on Level 6. Apart from being Chief Guard, the woman was also chiefly sadistic and if Warden Hannyabal wanted someone 'interrogated', he usually let Sadi-Chan do the honors. Her methods were limited to torture, but the damage she wrought was substantial. Nami had often seen the results of such interrogations dragging itself back into its assigned cell and had drawn her own conclusions. Time alone with Sadi-Chan was not a pleasurable experience, unless you were Sadi-Chan.

Sometimes, the woman would stand in front of Nami's cell, a wistful expression on her face and her hands restlessly massaging her precious whip. The pirate refused to be openly intimidated by such gestures, though Sadi-Chan staring at her for any amount of time took her back to memories of Arlong Park and Bellemere's death. Curiously enough, Nami wasn't once 'interrogated', nor was she subjected to any form of torture other than verbal abuse. This led her to assume that Sadi-Chan might be thinking of her in terms of a sparkling new toy she didn't get to play with. There was no point in trying to figure out why she ended up _this_ privileged - you didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially if said gift horse meant you didn't have to get up close and personal with that whip.

Regardless, Nami was not left to her own devices, either. She received regular visits by a severe looking man with a gaunt face, wrapped into an impressive purple robe_,_ who kept pointing out to her that her captain had forsaken her and was undeserving of her loyalty. He implored her to do the right thing just this once and tell them everything about her crew because anything she knew might help them to catch those that had abandoned her.

"Don't you want to see them brought to justice for betraying you like this?" he would ask and Nami would stare ahead with a dull expression and say nothing until he became annoyed or frustrated with her silence and left again. As long as she made sure to avoid the drugs, she'd be giving him the silent treatment for a good long time.

The gaunt man's visits would also leave her both happy and sad. Because the fact that they were still trying to wheedle information out of her meant her crew was still up and about, wreaking havoc as they went. But when she was asked about the swordsman's weaknesses, about how it came to be that Sogeking was no longer a part of their group, whom exactly they had stolen their pet from and what they'd done to that person and why they'd wanted the blue-nosed tanuki (she didn't bother to correct them) in the first place, what sort of relationship she had with her former captain, when they demanded she tell them how exactly Black Leg Sanji looked - then all she could do was to think of Arlong as hard as she could, of Pacifista, of slimy snails and furry rats, lest they'd see the longing and heartbreak on her face. It was strange to be homesick for a place that didn't have a fixed point in the world, but more than for Cocoyashi, Nami longed for the Sunny. She missed the feel of the planks beneath her feet, the familiar sounds of the ship plowing through the ocean while she charted its course - the insults (Zoro and Sanji), the raucous laughter (Luffy, Usopp and Chopper), the faint twang of a violin or, more often lately, a guitar (Brook), the dull hammering somewhere below her as the Sunny was maintained and improved (Franky) and the scent of sweet flowers as soft steps passed by her desk to reach the book shelf (Robin).

That she knew for a fact that no one would come for her; that those happy days were indeed over, didn't exactly improve her mood (yet oddly strengthened her resolve). But this, too, she didn't dare tell those standing on the other side of the cold steel bars. For the sake of her captain and her crew, it was imperative that they never knew how far the Straw Hats were willing to go to see their captain crowned Pirate King. As long as she remembered that, as long as she didn't get too comfortable in their routine of polite questioning and verbal abuse, as long as she remained on her toes and tried to avoid the drugs, Nami knew that everything would go according to plan. No matter how long they would keep her imprisoned.

Thus, it was with a great amount of surprise that Nami received her newest visitor. And of course, the only other person to actively seek her out in her nearly timeless prison that wasn't a prison guard had to be _him_ of all people.

Oh, she could deal with that lazy smirk, piece of cake. She could absolutely ignore that relaxed posture - relaxed, because he didn't have to run around with heavily shackled wrists, and wasn't that unfair? – as if it were old news. But that slightly mocking drawl as he addressed her so casually with "Miss Nami" this she absolutely couldn't ignore. Out of the mouth of Trafalgar Law, even the politest mode of address sounded condescending and rude - which was particularly true for the 'miss' he'd tacked to her name. In retaliation, she threw his title and name in his face as if it were the harshest insult she could muster without stooping so low to use foul language. Because who knew what happened if she didn't show at least modicum of courtesy? But of course, she was still entitled to clearly communicate her distaste for the man standing before her.

"Captain Trafalgar."

He inclined his head in a polite mockery of a greeting, which the guards standing at attention left and right from him didn't mirror. There were six of them, glaring in a manner that they thought projected watchfulness and their weapons ready for action. Interesting enough, apart from being allowed to wander freely into Impel Down without being forced into sea stone manacles, the Shichibukai was also allowed to do so with only a hand full of regular guards as an escort. This struck Nami as being quite a feat – she had heard stories about the last outsider to visit, Boa Hancock. Particularly the other woman's beauty and regrettably clothed state had been mentioned more often than Nami cared, but most of all the fact that she had been heavily manacled and guarded by then-Prison Warden Magellan himself had left an impression. Impel Down didn't slack on security just because a high ranking visitor stopped by. Not even her usual visitor, who as far as apparel went wasn't an employee of the high security jail, was as privileged as Law. Nami would have to stay on her toes for this one - the Heart Pirate was quite obviously in a more challenging league than her usual visitor.

Instead of remaining clustered around him, the guards fanned out slightly. This gave a poor illusion of privacy, because Nami was absolutely certain that every word they spoke would be carefully listened to by _someone _in uniform. No way would they (whoever they in this case happened to be: the government, the marines or the persons in charge of Impel Down's security) allow this man to just do as he pleased. Right?

"You look absolutely stunning, Miss Nami," he drawled and the way he emphasized his words let her know that Trafalgar Law didn't care if she was offended by his sarcasm or not. And although she knew that his stament was, in its core, absolutely correct, she knew that it wasn't true right know. She'd kept her hair braided and tied together with a torn off strip of clothing to prevent it from entangling hopelessly, but combing it with her fingers could do only so much. Like all level 6 inmates, she was allowed one ice cold shower per week (she was even given the luxury of a private shower by herself with only Domino standing watch as opposed to the men, who got to take their showers in groups of 15, believing this to be either a concession to her gender or another aspect of her solitary confinement) and although she'd always taken care to be thorough, the allotted time and water left a lot to be desired in terms of Nami's standards for personal hygiene. But at least Nami had made an effort.

For her own sake and comfort not that of anyone else, of course.

As his eyes swept over her slightly slimmed down form, she thought the expression on her captain's rival's face might be disapproval. She didn't bother trying to escape his scrutiny (there was no point in it), assuming he would begin to pick up the individual short-comings of her current appearance any moment now. When he finally spoke, it was in the calm, neutral tones of a medical professional.

"I am told that you haven't been eating," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why is that?"

"Don't like the seasoning," she quipped lightly. Somewhere in the neighboring cell, a shadowy figure chuckled.

"Too much salt?" Law enquired and Nami shook her head.

"Too many drugs," the woman replied.

A few glances were exchanged between some of the guards accompanying the quiet captain, whose quirked eyebrow was a mute invitation to elaborate. Nami decided to humor him.

"If it's a stew, they add maiden's whisper and-dash-or some babble juice; if it's a salad, they add red tattle berries or oil made from them. There's always snicker grass with the rice and sweet delirium in the tea," she explained offhandedly. Law tilted his head to the side.

The imprisoned woman had referred to the herbs used to drug her food by their common names rather than their scientific ones, which was to be expected. What was completely unexpected was the fact that not only could she tell him which drug was contained in which dish, but was apparently also able to avoid them somehow. He knew that any attempts to interrogate the Straw Hat navigator had been successfully thwarted by her, although the prison warden had gone to great lengths to ensure for various kinds of truth serums to be added to her meals for some time now. There were few other methods available to him to get the information they needed out of Nami, as there was a strict order to refrain from inflicting physical torture on her. This wasn't because there were any worries for her good health or a fear of the Straw Hats' inevitable revenge, but rather because the navigator was the frailest and weakest member of the pirate crew. It was generally assumed, that although she would break eventually, she also wouldn't be able to survive the ordeal of physical torture. This was not an acceptable outcome to those in charge: right now, Cat Burglar Nami was more valuable to the world government alive than dead.

"How would you know?" Trafalgar Law enquired, sounding only marginally more interested in her answer than the glares being directed at his back. Briefly, Nami wondered how many of those shadowy figures held a grudge against the Shichibukai personally and principally on account of him being either a) a pirate, b) a government sanctioned pirate and c) free to go. There was a calculating look in his cold, gray eyes and she decided to pick her battles carefully and answer his question. Just to be safe.

"I've got a fine sense of taste. Maiden's whisper leaves a taste like sesame oil, babble juice is sour like lime. Red tattle berries are bitter and their juice turns brown if exposed to air for half an hour or longer. Snicker grass leaves a blue-greenish tint on the rice once it's cold and has a light taste of garlic. There's nothing to it, really."

She didn't mention that she used to have a high tolerance of all these drugs after Arlong had first introduced her to them (which was early and frequent after she had joined his crew). Once she had become familiar with the effects she'd begun to build a tolerance, faking the appropriate effects when necessary. Being a gifted liar helped.

"And the sweet delirium?" he questioned. Nami made a dismissive gesture_._

"They always overdose on it."

It was common knowledge that sweet delirium, in small doses, was sugary-sweet to the taste and therefore the perfect addition to any sweet drink or food. But overdosed, it left behind a distinct flavor. While this wasn't an unpleasant taste, it was immediately noticeable as it superimposed itself over any other flavor. Knowing this it was a child's play for Nami (or anyone) to avoid ingesting too much of the drugs and slowly start to rebuild her tolerance. She'd started with snicker grass and sweet delirium, because rice and tea were going to serve her better in the long run than the varying dishes and drug doses they contained. After all, Impel Down did go out of its way to serve both with every meal - at least on level 6.

"I see," Trafalgar Law drawled, his habitual smirk tugging against the corners of his mouth. "Well, well. Full of surprises, aren't you?"

Nami offered a shrug in return to his comment. The Shichibukai gave a short, sharp gesture over his shoulder. It failed to dismiss the prison guards, who remained rooted in place and alert even as Law came to stand in front of the cell. Seemingly careless the lean man let himself drop to the floor and crossed his legs. He made a very definite gesture at a spot directly opposite of him on Nami's side of the bars. The message was clear and with a theatrical sigh, the woman retreated further into her cell before returning with a folded up, moldy blanket to sit on. It dropped to the floor with a dull thump, followed closely by the woman herself. Satisfied_, _the government sanctioned pirate reached into the inside of his coat and produced two plain metal cups and a hip flask. A guard catching sight of this shifted uncomfortably in its spot. It was obvious that this was nothing they had expected Law to do; probably it was also nothing he was supposed to do.

"I wasn't aware you could just waltz into Impel Down to share drinks with the inmates," Nami said quietly as she warily watched her visitor beginningto pour out two drinks. He did so with deliberate slowness, which didn't worry the imprisoned pirate, although her visitor seemed to be awfully cheap about sharing. Both metal cups were filled to only a quarter.

"Other than Mister Straw Hat, I don't think anybody can," the other pirate conceded in an almost conversational tone. "But I have made special arrangements."

"Special arrangements?" Nami echoed. The dark haired man ignored that remark and held one cup out to her.

"Now to what should we drink, Miss Nami? To freedom? To dreams? Friends? Oh... how about to loyalty?" he taunted. She allowed herself a few moments of silence before taking the proffered cup. A quick glance inside confirmed her assumption: the metal cup was filled only a few inches, probably no more than two fingers high, with a richly amber-colored liquid. The liquid's smell was overwhelmingly strong. Whiskey - Trafalgar Law had come all the way to Impel Down to share a cup of whiskey with her.

Right. The situation seemed to be more dangerous than Nami had expected.

"To loyalty," she responded softly, slightly tilting her cup into the captain's direction in an inclination of clinking glasses with him. The man's thin lips widened momentarily into something that could be almost called a smile before raising the cool metal to his lips.

The alcohol swept down her throat, leaving tingly warmth in its wake. Nami closed her eyes, savoring the taste. "Sweet and nutty... oranges and... smoke," she commented quietly. "This is a North Blue malt, isn't it? A Two Rivers?"

"Indeed," her visitor confirmed, appreciation coloring his voice warmer than she thought it capable. "The single malt, 14 years. You appreciate a fine whiskey, Miss Nami?"

"I appreciate anything that is fine, captain," was her prompt, saucy reply which immediately caused some jeers from the inmates in the neighboring cells and within moments, the surrounding cells exploded in noisy, vulgar comments. The cacophony successfully forced the guards away from Trafalgar Law in an effort of re-establishing peace and quiet. Even those that remained somewhat within ear shot would have a hard time following their softly spoken conversation. This time, the pirate captain did smile. Trust the Straw Hat navigator to be on top of her game even behind bars.

"Why are you here?" It wasn't exactly a question, but he didn't mind. This wasn't exactly a social visit, either.

"To offer you a deal."

Nami snorted. "What? To trade my life against that of my captain? My crew? I'd never betray them. Oh, let me guess: it's in your best interest?"

"Barely. Mostly, it's in the best interest of people you have been trying very hard to protect."

"My crew doesn't need my protection," she snapped and it came out harsher than she had intended it to. Law showed himself unfazed by her little outburst.

"Indeed." The world was drawled with enough thinly veiled menace, that it made her skin crawl. The Surgeon of Death wasn't Sadi-Chan, however. She was more spooked of his unnerving presence than of the whip-wielding prison guard and he got under her skin more easily. Maybe because Sadi's was the kind of menacing that was out and there for everyone to see, whereas Law's was the quiet kind. His face betrayed not a single emotion or flicker of thought, although she knew that the gears in his head were listlessly turning. He liked to stay ahead of things and in control, very much like herself. And the annoying thing was that right now, he was and she had no means of breaking his hold on their encounter. But she would have to make an effort, anyway.

"Then this conversation is over." Nami bit out. Stubbornly, she put the metal cup down and completely missed the flicker of triumph in her opposite's eyes. Law was a little disappointed that she'd walked right into it, but his voice lost nothing of the quiet edge that worked so well on the redhaired woman.

"Far from it. Or am I to assume you no longer care about Cocoyashi Village?"

Involuntarily, Nami froze. A sudden coldness washed over her, as if if someone had doused her with a bucket of cold water. She hadn't been prepared to hear these words from anyone while in Impel Down, least of all him. The fact that she couldn't hide her shock and fear was more than just a testimony to Law having hit a nerve. It was proof that she had made the mistake of getting comfortable in what relative security the questions for her nakama had offered her. It was a disturbing realization for the navigator, but less so than the fact that her opposite was appearing to find great satisfaction in the terror she showed.

"It's been a while since you've been to the East Blue, hasn't it?" the man began conversationally. "Why don't I bring you up to date?" There was an odd air of serene gleefulness about him which didn't quite match his stoic personality. "You are aware that there's been an investigation of how it came to be that an entire island was occupied by a known criminal for almost a decade, aren't you?"

Nami nodded slowly. Of course there had been an investigation. When a pirate interfered with what should be the Marine's work, there was always an investigation. In the case of Arlong, Luffy's interference had been passed off as a happy coincidence. Coincidence because naturally, the Marine had been fully aware of the fishman's doings and had been merely waiting for the right moment to strike. But thenLuffy had come along and had rendered all their careful planning obsolete by removing the threat with complete disregard to the safety of the innocent civilians who had suffered greatly at the hands of the Arlong Pirates.

At least, that's what the newspapers had written shortly after she had left her home island behind.

"The conflict between your crew and Arlong's was put down to being a minor power struggle among criminals. The file has been re-opened twice since," her visitor explained over the rim of his cup.

"Twice?"

"Indeed, Miss Nami. Two years ago, when your crew vanished, marine soldiers stationed near Cocoyashi reported something quite curious."

Trafalgar Law was obviously enjoying this and despite the rising feeling of dread, Nami knew she was required to play a long. With great effort, she managed to sound somewhat neutral when she finally asked: "What was that?"

"A funeral service," the Surgeon of Death replied, taking another languid sip from his cup. The woman in front of him barely tensed _further_, he noted. She had overcome her initial surprise, but was still on edge, a sentiment of which he approved. It would make her more vulnerable in the end. Making a show of swirling the contents of his cup, he continued his explanation. "Held in the memory of yourself, your captain and your crew. Half the island was in attendance. You received full honors. Even those members of your crew that joined long after you entered the Grand Line."

Trafalgar Law paused to watch the woman guide the cup to her lips and drink waiting for the words to properly sink in. He mirrored the movement, eyeing her with little discretion. She'd been pretty when she had first been brought to Impel Down and even now, she was attractive in a too-skinny kind of way that came with her self-imposed - for lack of better word - fasting. She'd been aware of it, of course, and had used it to her advantage whenever she could. It was really no surprise, that her wanted posters had been somewhat popular_. _Meanwhile, the quiet had returned and there was a slight echo when he asked her with faked politeness: "Would you like a refill, Miss Nami?"

"I'm good," she deadpanned. He probably knew that she hadn't even consumed half of the dollop of alcohol he had poured her. She hadn't sipped from her cup that often. And she wasn't going to play this oh-so-polite game of cat and mouse, anyway. Even if he was subtly telling her by offering that the worst was yet to come. How much worse could it get than the entire village of Cocoyashi joining up to hold a funeral service for a pirate crew that had just been charged with assaulting three world aristocrats and holding them hostage?

"They chalked it up to you having been one of their own so no further actions were taken. You only did, what the Marine had been planning to do, anyway." he said and the woman snorted derisively. Law didn't seem to notice or purposefully ignored it. Either way, he continued to nonchalantly swirl the contents of his cup. He seemed pleased with something and Nami couldn't help but wonder whether she'd somehow managed to stumble into a carefully laid trap.

"There's been another report from Cocoyashi," the Shichibukai began, adding a mock-contemplative pause for effect. "Eight months ago."

Nami felt her fingers fidget with the cup and forced herself to still them.

"Can you imagine what it said?"her visitor asked. The mild curiosity he faked was infuriating, as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather (which was a more serious matter to Nami than most other people, thank you very much). Also, how was she supposed to know what had happened eight months ago? Eight months ago, they had continued their travels. Eight months ago had been, when they had let the world know that the Straw Hat pirates weren't dead - or recruiting. Never once had she stopped to think of her childhood home because she had just been so glad—

And then all of a sudden, Nami could imagine it quite clearly. If they'd been stupid enough to hold a service for their supposed funeral two years ago, they would have also been stupid enough to celebrate their return. She felt the color drain from her face and hastily snatched up her cup again, She drained it almost desperately, putting her hopes into the alcohol's abilities to force a healthy and calm blush into her cheeks. The Shichibukai smirked infuriatingly before raising inclining his cup into her direction as if acknowledging her sudden realization.

"That's right. They celebrated your return. According to the report, celebrations lasted two full days, with your bounty posters being plastered all over the place. You'll be pleased to hear that the villagers toasted to your health and infamy. The Marine officials weren't amused. It is assumed that Cocoyashi is one of the villages that are supporting the Straw Hats and joining in your revolution." Another pause followed because he enjoyed keeping her hanging like this. It was nothing short of disrespectful, but Nami was too worried about the story he told to care about the insult right now.

"Revolution?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from sounding alarmed. Revolution? What revolution?

The man waved her enquiry off and threw back the last dredges of his drink. His voice was slightly throaty when he off-handedly elaborated.

"A few insignificant villages and some odd island kingdom that's always been a problem, apparently. The desert Kingdom of Arubasta seemed to be involved, too. But the ransom note for the princess proves that this isn't the case."

Wait, wait - what? Ransom? For Vivi? How did that _happen_? And _when_?!

Law picked up the flask and unscrewed the lid. "Are you sure you don't care for a refill, Miss Nami?" he asked again, motioning towards her cup. Wordlessly she handed it over. This time around, he proved to be much more generous with the amber liquid although he still didn't fill the cup all the way (but with a whiskey of this quality, that would have been a crime, anyway). When they had both taken another sip, he leaned back on his elbows. Obviously he was either very comfortable on the cold stone floor or very much enjoying seeing her try (and fail_) _to hide her rising agitation.

"The general consensus is, that you've established a base in the East Blue centered around Cocoyashi. It's quite obvious that the villagers are part of your crew. It's an interesting report," he stated, pulling a bundle of papers out of his coat and casually flipping through it, occasionally reading out to her. Nami shifted uncomfortably as he read out, somehow feeling his voice was ringing out louder now than before and desperately wanting to tell him to keep it down. And despite his earlier claim, he sounded extremely bored. "Excessively scarred man called Genzo, posing as acting mayor and sheriff... presumably trained the Pirate-Hunter Zoro... Doktor Nako, possibly a fake identity... Yosaku, former member of Zoro's group posing as fisher... no... no... where is it?"

The dark haired pirate pretended to frown, flipping the pages of the report over with his thumb as if he were searching for something in particular. He made quite a show of it, sitting up straighter than before and studiously going through the pages of the report. For all purposes, Trafalgar Law appeared to be completely engrossed in his search for that one page he apparently wanted to show her so badly. Nami wasn't fooled, however. His eyes weren't on the report in his hands, they were fixed to hers. It seemed almost that he was committing every impulse to close her eyes, every twitch betraying her wish to just look away, to memory. She felt dread rise from the pit of her stomach, the longer he noisily flipped through the pages.

'Please not Nojiko, please not Nojiko,' she mentally chanted.

Something fell out of the flipped over pages of the report and Nami recognized it as a photo that must have been loosely pinned to one of the pages with the paper clip still attached to it. The Shichibukai halted his search with an expression of mock-surprise and slowly - too slowly for genuine surprise - reached for it. He flipped the picture over and Nami gritted her teeth.

There was nothing coincidental about the fact that Nojiko's likeness was staring at her from the stone floor. In fact, Law wasn't even trying to deceive her into believing this move hadn't been deliberate. If he had, he would have had the decency to arrange for the picture being upside-down. Nami took offense to that.

"Ah, there she is," he muttered, just loud enough for Nami to catch the words. He flipped back to the front of the report and easily found the page he'd been looking for. "Woman posing as the owner of a mikan plantation. Presumably guarding the crew's treasure, as indicated in the report of Captain Nezumi, 16th branch. Official records show that the plantation was registered as property of the deceased Marine Lieutenant Commander Bellemere..."

"Stop it."

Her voice was soft and tense, but it pierced the quiet around them easily. They did have a quite eager audience, after all. Still, he feigned polite surprise: "Begging your pardon, Miss Nami?"

"You heard me."

The Surgeon of Death grinned. It was an unsettling expression on his face and Nami instantly took an even stronger dislike to it than to his damnable smirk because it meant he had her - and he knew it.

It was one thing to waltz in with the intention of mocking her. He hadn't done anything else since stepping into the prison, anyway. He couldn't in all honesty believe that she hadn't noticed how he had mocked her when feigning politeness or surprise the way he had. He couldn't have believed her to be this oblivious to him trying to rub her the wrong way. He didn't even have the decency to be subtle about it or to honestly _try_ and deceive her. As if she weren't even worth the deception. Nami gritted her teeth. From one criminal to another, it was one of the worst possible insults. But then again, this was probably to be expected from a pirate that stooped so low as to join forces with the government.

"What do you want?"

There. It was out. The question he'd wanted her to ask ever since he'd set foot into Impel Down. Now, it was time to start negotiations.

"I want your assistance, Miss Nami."

When she didn't bother to verbally respond to his claim, he leaned forward, as if to whisper conspiratorial to her.

"I know everything there is to know," he began calmly indicating the report.

There was a growl and Nami was surprised to realize that it came from her. She hated how calm and detached he was about this, how neutral and down to earth his voice sounded while she was more or less in agony. Who did he think he was? Waltzing into Impel Down like he owned it, playing tea time with her and pretending this was a social call, only to drag up something like that! More than anything at that moment, Nami wanted to know what his intentions were. A glance passed between them: contempt and contemplation. Had he pushed her far enough?

"What. Do. You. Want?" she repeated her question, carefully enunciating each word to make it clear that she was done playing games. It was of no relevance what he knew or _thought _he knew - the report was half assumptions and half lies anyway. He couldn't bully her with those lies, or at least she refused to be bullied into submission just because he was parroting untruths. And if anything, she was fed up with his rotten, mock-courteous attitude. His grin told her, that he knew.

"Join my crew."

The statement was made without any hesitation on his part. It also left no doubt about the fact that this was neither an invitation nor a request. There was a shocked gasp, but Nami was pleased to note that this was not hers.

"Forget it." She was just as pleased to note that her own response elicited more shock and surprise than his offer had. There was a throaty chuckle, too. It was Law's.

"You don't have much of a choice in this matter, Miss Nami." There was it again, that neutrally detached matter-of-fact tone of his, that sarcastic lilt to her name that meant he wasn't taking her seriously. As if it was a given that she would do as he told her. But Nami felt she still had a say in that.

"Says who?" she challenged.

"Akainu and myself, among others."

Her grip on the metallic cup tightened, but she refrained from responding to his claim. The dark-haired man regarded her through cool, emotionless gray eyes.

"I happen to be in need of some of your more... unique skills, Miss Nami," he continued evenly. From any other man, these very same words would have sounded heavy with innuendo, but Trafalgar Law somehow managed to make it appear as if the mere fact that he needed her was utterly repulsive and frustrating. As if Nami herself were a regrettable inconvenience that just couldn't be helped.

_'Why you...'_

"And if I refuse?"

The pirate captain shrugged his shoulders and then, as if she hadn't just verbally thrown the gauntlet, he continued: "You've gone to great lengths to protect Cocoyashi, haven't you? What if all that hard work of yours went to waste?"

He paused, as if waiting to see what effect his words would have on her. But somewhere between her last outburst and his statement, she had found her cool. Or possibly the shock had paralyzed her. Either way she showed no recognition of having understood or being bothered by this prospect. So maybe he had to make it a little more obvious.

"The government doesn't tolerate revolution, Miss Nami. The term 'Buster Call' holds a meaning to you, doesn't it? You could prevent this. It's simple, really. Join my crew and do as I say and your precious little backwater village with all its idiots will live. Don't and they die."

Much to his annoyance, there was still no reaction from the woman. Pity. He'd hoped for more of a show. The Straw Hat navigator had started out so well, too, letting him play her any which way. But the game had to end sometime, he mused.

"I see," he drawled and lazily got to his feet. "Perhaps you need a little more time to think?"

The Straw Hat navigator sat unmoving and stone-faced, completely ignoring his mockery. Trafalgar Law felt the corners of his mouth itch with the need to shift from smirk to frown. The female pirate was an expressive person who wore her heart on her sleeve. He remembered that well from their first prolonged encounter on Punk Hazard.

The Shichibukai also knew for a fact that Nami had a soft spot for those in need. It had been at her insistence that they'd saved the children Cesar Clown had experimented on. Her captain had agreed, despite Law himself pointing out what a liability they would be and the woman hadn't cared about the additional risk. And even then, he could have told easily that she was the kind of person that would go the extra mile to protect, to defend. The Strawhat navigator - he was certain - was incapable of letting someone die (dealing a killing blow wasn't even worth mentioning). Not, if she had the means to prevent it, which made her silence even more incomprehensible.

Apart from her loved ones, there were children in Cocoyashi. There had even been a veritable baby boom on the entire island, starting a year after Arlong's tyranny was abolished. And despite no supporting evidence, he was certain that the Straw Hats had ways of communicating with their allies and friends. It was preposterous to assume anything else so why...?

Wordlessly, he held out his hand to retrieve the metal cup still clutched in the woman's hands. A flash of silver flew past his head with astonishing accuracy and velocity. With a metallic clatter, the cup fell to the ground and laughter exploded around him. Considering that the person who had thrown it was somewhat malnourished and couldn't move her arms freely, he was duly impressed. He also felt the first stirrings of annoyance.

The captain of the Heart Pirates was being extremely generous, as it were. He wasn't required to offer her the easy, comfortable way of doing things, but he did it anyway because he did feel a modicum of respect for her captain. Admittedly, any such respect was heavily outweighed by his sheer surprise at the other's apparent insanity and naivety, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he needed Cat Burglar Nami to do as he said and she was being deliberately unhelpful. He could force her to comply to his wishes by brute force, fully aware that Fleet Admiral Sakazuki was very much in favor of this option. But for Law's plans it was better if she came half-willingly. It was bothersome enough that she didn't jump at the chance of freedom the way he had hoped she would. Was she enjoying her stay at Impel Down that much?

"That," he said, brushing the stray droplets of whiskey off his dark coat with slow, purposeful movements, "might not have been a smart thing to do, Miss Nami." In the renewed quiet of the prison, his cold words cut any remaining noise down swift and mercilessly. He tipped his hat into her general direction, not bothering to pick up the cup or the fallen picture of Nojiko.

"You deserved it," the imprisoned pirate called after the Shichibukai's retreating form, knowing beyond a doubt that he'd be back.


	2. Two

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or claim to own the story or associated characters of Eiichiro Oda's "One Piece". No profit is gained from the writing and publishing of this story, no copyright infringement intended. Should this story be deemed offensive by either the legal owners and/or representatives of One Piece, Mr Oda or this website, respectively, the story will of course be taken down immediately with full apologies extended.

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**Notes**: I have changed the story's genre – suspense doesn't exactly fit it, after all. This chapter also hasn't been as thoroughly beta-read since I desperately wanted to get it uploaded before the New Year and I got impatient. **Kinjiru** did a wonderful job on the first version of this chapter but it's the holiday season and thoughtful and thorough beta readers deserve a break, too. So if you read anything that is grossly out of place or plain wrong, I am most definitely the one to blame for it.

like to thank all of you for your wonderful reviews and adding this story to favorites or watch list (or all of the above)! I hope you will enjoy this chapter, too.

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**_Two_**.

_Wherein taste is not only a matter of personal opinion._

Trafalgar Law had not expected such a straight forward refusal of his offer though he hadn't expected a blind acceptance of it, either. Nor had he, in fact, anticipated any scenario in which a cup full of whiskey almost hit him in the face. It therefore stands to reason that, upon leaving Impel Down that day he had been rather put out and for some unexplainable reason his mood generally failed to improve over the course of the following three days.

The Straw Hat navigator had proven herself to be a more stubborn and clever person than he had initially been led to believe. Law would feel inclined to place the blame for the former on her captain if it weren't such a childish thing to do. For a woman in her early 20s – at least he assumed that was her age since there were no official records concerning her person to be found _anywhere_ – Cat-Burglar Nami was a lot more intelligent than her peers. This was an inconvenient and quite nasty surprise. Apart from the issue of him having underestimated his opposite, there was also the not-so insignificant problem of the Marines breathing down the Shichibukai's neck. It turned out that they had generally little patience when things didn't go according to plan. The problem, he assumed, was the fact that the plan hadn't even been kicked-off yet. A delay was easier to stomach if things were already well underway; a delay in _getting_ things on the way on the other hand was beyond frustrating.

If he were honest, the Shichibukai was also greatly bothered by the fact that Nami hadn't appeared to be contemplating his offer at all during any moment of his visit. For some reason she had even seemed rather offended by it. And despite the fact that there was a temporary alliance in effect between her captain and himself, she had been distrustful of him. This meant in turn that even after the events of Punk Hazard and the things in which he had participated at _her_ insistence (saving and healing those children had never even been close to becoming a part of his agenda before the woman's interference), not all Straw Hat Pirates trusted him. Law would have expected this from Nico Robin, since she had been the one to issue a corresponding warning back then, but not from the navigator.

Then again, he probably should have known when they'd told him that interrogations had yielded nothing that he was up against more than just a pretty face. The amount of sweet delirium and snicker grass she had supposedly ingested during one meal alone should have made the woman more than susceptible to her interrogator's questions, yet strangely hadn't had an effect on her. From a medical perspective, having kept her on such high levels of the drugs had been a stupid thing to do in the first place since her body would eventually start to build a tolerance. That didn't take into account the possibility that the Straw Hat navigator may have had a high tolerance of both drugs at one point in her life to begin with. This meant that she could rebuild her former tolerance with ease, instead of having to try to build a tolerance from scratch while imprisoned. After all, building a tolerance would require her to carefully measure out the correct doses, which she would have to increase and ingest at regular intervals over a period of several months. It was obvious that the Straw Hat pirate lacked the means for this while locked up in Impel Down; hence why he assumed there to have been a certain tolerance in the first place.

Law was certain that it must have been a higher than usual tolerance, too, that had been built over a number of years, possibly even a good decade. There was no other logical explanation for the fact that it had rebuilt this quickly. The main agent in maiden's whisper was coactumin. Even in combination with another agent like adducon acid, the active component in snicker grass, a healthy body should be able to break a long-term poisoning down in less than a year. Both were, after all, relatively harmless agents that didn't cause too much damage to the body unless you were a diabetic. Logically speaking, this meant that there had to be at least one more agent that the Straw Hat navigator had used to immunize herself and that was slowing down the process, but the identity of this third mystery component was anyone's guess. There was no way of telling which drug Nami had ingested, nor for how long she had done so or when she'd stopped and not knowing meant not being able to gauge possible side effects. A blood test would be the only reliable way to answer that question, but Law had neither the time nor access to the equipment required for such testing. With the prison warden's happy-go-lucky approach to poisoning it was a small miracle the woman hadn't accidentally been killed yet.

He had to intervene, whether he liked it or not. He couldn't allow the warden to jeopardize the woman's health because it put his own plans equally at risk. His ethics as a medical professional had little to do with it, overall. They wouldn't have begun calling him 'Surgeon of Death' or 'Dark Doctor' if he had any qualms about causing someone's demise - or not preventing it, as the case may be. Ultimately, it had taken some convincing on Law's part to stop the poisoning. To get his point across, he had had to resort to pointing out that if Cat-Burglar Nami died from a fatal overdose (a risk of which he now knew that it ran very high, if the amount of coactumin in her tea was anything to go by) Prison Warden Hannyabal's position would be on the line. It had worked and now, as per Doctor Trafalgar's orders, there would be no more drugs in either the woman's tea or food. By his instructions her diet had also been reduced to tea and rice – there was no use in wasting perfectly good food if the pirate habitually ignored any main course or salad. But preventing food from being wasted wasn't the main objective behind this decision. It was a matter of principle: if she didn't _want_ to eat anything but tea and rice, they certainly wouldn't make her. The fact that he couldn't deny that his pride had had a say in his actions, was completely irrelevant; it certainly wasn't meant to be punishment for throwing that half-full cup of whiskey at him or rejecting his offer.

Most people locked up in Impel Down never got to leave it. Even in death they remained in the prison in one form or another. Few were 'privileged' like Portgas D. Ace and received a public execution because most of the time, the prisoners were locked up to be forgotten. Oblivion was the cruelest of punishments and it was what awaited anyone who set foot into the high security prison.

So _he_ had been exceptionally generous when he'd offered the Straw Hat navigator to defect to his crew.

And _she_ had been incredibly ungrateful and rude when she'd refused to.

The crux of the matter wasn't that according to his – no, regrettably it was still _their _plan at this point in time – she would end up dead and gone either way. The crux was that she didn't even seem to understand _what_ he was offering.

Or at least that was what he was going to tell her, the truth being a different matter entirely and none of her concern.

It was with a certain amount of apprehension that he entered Impel Down on the third day after his initial visit, his pocket heavy with what he liked to think of as the final argument. Akainu had been quite clear on one thing: if the Shichibukai failed in this one, insignificant point, there was no reason to go through with the rest of the plan. Clearly, if he couldn't get an imprisoned slip of a _girl_ to do as he wished her to, there was no point in letting him try his hand at a bigger, more complex endeavor. The fleet admiral's reasoning was understandable, if somewhat shortsighted. Law had proven himself to be a valuable asset in the past and he had no intentions of leaving Impel Down without the navigator this time around. He also liked to think that he'd done a better job of preparing for the encounter.

And was he ever looking forward to it...

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Down on level 6, Nojiko's picture had remained in the exact same spot where it had fallen on the day Trafalgar Law had come to visit: in front of Nami's cell, just out of her reach. The guards doing their rounds had been careful to avoid the picture, lest they moved or accidentally stepped on it. Sadi-Chan had just barely resisted the urge to pierce the glossy paper with her heel, something that seemed to become more difficult for her the more time passed. Nami was well aware of the implications, but made a conscious effort not to be bothered by it. When Trafalgar Law returned - and she knew he would return - she was going to make sure he understood that she was not so easily shaken. She would not be caught off guard by the Heart pirate again!

With a considerable amount of interest the imprisoned woman had taken note of her gaunt interrogator's failure to appear ever since the captain of the Heart pirates had stopped by. Whatever he had been trying to learn from her, he was no longer going to bother asking. The pirate found that to be slightly worrisome but even worse was that they had stopped poisoning her food. This was to Nami the greatest of all annoyances since she was certain that her carefully rebuilt tolerance was going to rapidly dwindle. She blamed Law for this. It was convenient and she liked having a scapegoat. Unfortunately, it seemed her future had been very much decided since his appearance, presumably three days ago, although measuring time in Impel Down still remained hazy guess work at best.

This explains why she wasn't surprised to hear what had to be a group of people moving into her general direction shortly before what the inmates considered to be noon and therewith lunch time. Trafalgar Law may not be a man of a predictable mind set, but the Marines and Impel Down were. Three (or so) days were ample time to change her mind in their opinion.

The group stopping in front of her cell consisted of Chief-Guard Domino and a hand full of heavily armed guards. The amount of weapons they bore was simply overkill. Even free and armed, Nami alone wouldn't have been capable of overpowering the group on her own. She would have needed at the very least a distraction in the form of Usopp or Zoro. The red-haired female made a face. Something was up and it was nothing good.

"Prisoner number seven-three seven-three, Cat-Burglar Nami of the Straw Hat pirates," the Chief Guard began and the so-addressed couldn't help it.

"Present," she chirped cheerfully. As expected, Domino made a slightly irritated noise. Ah, the little joys of prison life - she would have to enjoy them as long as she could. It was likely not going to be for much longer.

All it took for the chief guard to collect herself was, regrettably, a quick shake of the head. Domino wasn't a woman easily deterred or flustered unless you happened to be the most beautiful woman in the world and the blonde was forced to ask you to undress and let her shackle you. Thus her voice was steady and calm when she demanded: "Follow me."

Much to Nami's dismay, her cell was unlocked by two of the guards. There was a moment - not more than two or three heartbeats - in which the pirate contemplated to just stay where she was. But it passed and the navigator leisurely moved forward. Interesting enough, no one asked her to pick up her pace as she strolled after Domino, not even the other woman who usually was the epitome of military precision. Today, she seemed content to stroll ahead. Apparently, there was no hurry or at least, this was what the prisoner was to believe. She noticed that the guards were exchanging quick glances, as if uncertain of how to proceed. Clearly, they were not following whatever sort of internal protocol had been agreed on. Nami filed that information away for later.

Eventually, the pirate and her entourage ended up in front of a door Nami was not familiar with, this being rather unsurprising in and of itself as she was factually familiar with her own cell and the inmate's bathroom, only. The door was opened by two guards standing watch and Domino led on through the dark corridor beyond. The walls were lined with a minimal amount of torches randomly dotted in between and their light illuminated the width of the corridor just so. In the darker recesses of the high ceiling, Nami suspected surveillance snails to be lurking, keeping an eye on all who trespassed. The atmosphere was oppressive and very nearly claustrophobic. Somewhere in the distance, a prisoner was screaming. 'Sadi-Chan', the thought came unbidden and Nami pushed it away quickly. So torture it was... well, she couldn't claim to not have expected it. She had known that eventually it would come to this; she'd just hoped and prayed that 'eventually' was still a long way off.

But when Domino stopped her in front of another sturdy iron door being forced open by two guards and indicated for her to step through it, Nami didn't come face to face with the wild-haired chief guard of her nightmares. Instead, she found herself looking at Trafalgar Law, lounging comfortably on a sofa. Nami felt her eye twitch at the sight of the other pirate, although all in all, the scene that presented itself before Nami's eyes could have been a whole lot worse.

The room she was standing in was medium sized. Its walls were painted a rather drab, unbecoming shade of olive green and the floor's tiles would, if properly cleaned, quite possibly end up being off-white or something close to it. Not that anyone had bothered to do so in the last ten years or so. Nami forced herself not to think too closely about the need for a tiled floor or the dull metallic flash of steely drains strewn in between. If she made a conscious effort, she could even ignore the way the seams were a lot darker around the drains and the fact that the air was heavy with the lingering scent of disinfectants. Instead, she ended up eyeing the neon lights dangling from the ceiling and their milky green glass shades. Apart from the sofa, where Law was moving to sit up and straighten his clothes, there was no furniture that Nami deemed worrisome or possibly dangerous. And if it weren't for the very noticeable fine brown splatters darkening the fabric in odd places, the sofa wouldn't even have qualified as 'worrisome' in the first place. The most remarkable piece of furniture however was the table sitting right in front of the couch for the sheer oddity of its presence.

It was a well-sized, rectangular dining room table. The traditional Wadonese kind that was too low for a proper chair unless you sawed off its legs, which explained the wooden construct consisting only of a backside and a seat upholstered with a thick, red cushion on the side that wasn't facing towards the couch. The table was made of dark wood and as sophisticated and elegant as it was, as ridiculously out of place did it seem in the shabby room. This kind of table belonged into a traditional Wadonese restaurant, not into a torture chamber in Impel Down. There was no doubt that this was the room's original purpose, though they had gone to some length to disguise that fact by removing all the apparent (and movable) evidence safe for the couch.

Someone - Nami thought it was unlikely that this had been Law himself - had set out the table for two persons. The exact same amount of nondescript white china bowls had been placed on each half of the table: a large flat bowl, a round bodied medium-sized bowl and two smaller bowls. All of these were covered with lids, presumably to keep their contents warm. The spicy tang of their contents still managed to escape. Even mixed with the lingering unpleasantness of the disinfectants, it caused a warm feeling in the hollowness of Nami's stomach. She hadn't had a proper meal since the day that she had let herself be caught and her meals following Law's prior visit had been less than satisfying. After almost three days with barely more than a handful of rice, the navigator was positively starving. Part of her worried if this was in fact what her captain's rival had been aiming for: she was weaker for her hunger and she knew better than to fall prey to the ludicrous idea that he might have returned just because he liked the atmosphere. After all, this _was_ a torture chamber.

'There's no reason to worry. You knew he was coming back. And you know you can handle him,' she told herself.

Still, after their last encounter she hadn't expected Trafalgar Law to bring her lunch. Actually it was beyond the last thing she would have expected this being him appealing to her natural greed and trying to buy her in one way or another. In all of her worst case scenarios, there had been a medical examining room in which the Surgeon of Death put his infamous skill to the test. She'd even toyed with the possibility of him attempting to seduce her into compliance, but discarded it as too transparent a ploy on his part. He would threaten, torture, bully and humiliate her without a moment's hesitation, but Nami was certain that he would do it from a distance, where he could watch and enjoy the show instead of getting tangled up in it. Something that very much looked like it was going to be a _lunch date_, of all things, had never even crossed her mind.

"Captain Trafalgar Law, I bring you the prisoner number seven-three seven-three, Cat-Burglar Nami of the Straw Hat pirates," Domino announced, saluting promptly. Nami quirked an eyebrow as the pirate captain rose to his feet with a short nod to the buxom blonde; a short nod that for some reason dismissed Domino and her followers, which Nami didn't realize immediately.

The door clicked shut and the red-haired woman whirled around to find – nothing. No guards to watch over them, no surveillance snails as far as Nami could tell unless one or two of them were being fried alive in the lampshades.

This stank: it was just them.

Him.

Her.

_Alone_.

It could have been the interlude to a romantic scene in any given jungle paradise but in her case, it was something straight out of a nightmare. She didn't even have a chance to protest, to make it clear that she did not want to be left alone with Trafalgar Law, least of all without a witness of some sort (what little good it'd do her).

Being alone with the Shichibukai with a heavy cell door separating them and a handful of guards nearby to eavesdrop was fine. In fact, any form of being alone with Trafalgar Law was fine as long as there were the bars of a cell separating them. Nami wasn't going to be all that picky about the question of who should be standing on which side, either, although she did have a personal preference, as it were.

But being alone with the Shichibukai with no guards, no visible surveillance, no witnesses _and her hands manacled_? That was in no way, shape or form acceptable. It was nothing short of terrifying! She was left at the mercy of the cliché tall, dark, handsome stranger, except in her case it was a tall, dark, _sadistic criminal_.

"Miss Nami," the Shichibukai began and the familiar mockery of politeness tinged his voice all the more belittling in her ears, "or… do you prefer being called prisoner number seven-three seven-three nowadays?"

It was amazing with how little effort he could offend the navigator: not even two sentences spoken and already she was feeling the urge to forcibly wipe that smirk off his face, preferably with something heavy and spiked like a mace. It was important that she kept a tight hold of her temper, however. Without the safety of a cell to protect her from him, Nami had to rely on her ability to play it cool even more than she was entirely comfortable with in her current situation. Pissing him off wasn't going to help her.

It would have been nice to have a reassurance of sorts that things would turn out alright, but there was none available and she didn't trust Law as far as the tip of her very own nose went. Her problem wasn't that she was incapable to deceive: Nami was an experienced and gifted liar. Life in Cocoyashi had, at one point, pretty much depended on her ability to lie through her teeth and not be caught. But it was difficult to force herself back into that state of mind where she'd nearly effortlessly fooled Arlong and his men, now that she'd spent so much time outside of it. A part of her was struggling, wanting to resist her efforts of forcibly entering a mental landscape that was no longer second nature to her or even remotely familiar. She hadn't really had a need for such a state of mind for so long, practically since the day Arlong had been defeated. For this, Luffy was the one to blame.

Being a member of his crew meant that she could thoroughly enjoy the privilege of trusting someone and she had taken to it like a fish to water. It was such a simple thing, really, trusting another person but it had been a struggle for her to actually allow herself to relax and no longer look for an ulterior motive in Luffy's actions or that of her nakama. She'd only ever truly trusted her mother and sister before and their rag tag pirate crew had, at the beginning, pretty much pushed at her limits.

But Luffy gave his trust as freely as he spent money (which he did infuriatingly generous on both accounts). Chopper was the same and Sanji trusted her, because she was a girl and he wanted to. Usopp's and Zoro's trust had had to be earned and she'd done some of that by spilling her own blood instead of theirs. Robin, Franky and Brook all had joined at a much later point and Nami had been in the surprisingly comfortable position of _offering_ her trust to someone else rather than having to earn theirs for herself. To be honest, being able to trust had become somewhat of a bad habit of hers. A bad habit, because it meant she'd discarded those scheming and treacherous areas of her mind that would allow her to fool even the most hardened of crooks and suppress her temper, if only for a brief period of time, in favor of slipping into the comfort of her nakama's unfaltering believe in her person and allowing herself to experience each emotion then and there instead of bottling it all up and discarding them. It was a luxury that came at a price, she knew and Nami couldn't afford to pay up now.

"Captain Trafalgar," she acknowledged with forced calmness. Her tone was polite and non-committal, her expression carefully obliging. It was important, she reminded herself again, to stay in control at the very least of herself. If she lost control of herself, she'd lose control of the situation and thereby her only chance of leaving Impel Down anytime soon. "Nami will be fine."

"Will it? I'm feeling rather fond of seven-three seven-three right now…" he replied, his smirk turning vaguely taunting. "But do sit down."

His hand fanned out, indicating the seat on the table's right side. There was, he was pleased to note, only the slightest hint of hesitation as she moved towards the table and he attributed it to the fact that she could already smell all the dishes hidden in the porcelain bowls. Her self-imposed diet of rice and tea had been rather bland and lacking in nutritional aspects, even more so now that her rations had been cut in half these past three days without the added 'benefit' of snicker grass' garlic flavor. Her salivary glands had to be working overtime by now and she was possibly, hopefully, struggling with maintaining self-control. But as she slipped into her seat with a notable lack of her usual grace, he realized that it might have something to do with a lack of experience, too.

The woman shifted uncomfortably on her knees, clearly unused to a chair that required kneeling. From her stiff shoulders down to her rigid spine, it was obvious that Nami wasn't used to Wadonese furniture: the Straw Hat navigator wasn't as well-traveled as Law himself. .He had assumed as much, but hadn't counted it as a vital part for his plan. After much shifting and fidgeting, the female pirate chose to sit down cross-legged. Law watched with some satisfaction from his seat in the middle of the couch how she shrunk by a few more inches, allowing him to look even further down onto the navigator from his elevated position. He'd clearly won this round – not that he was keeping track on a mental check-list of sorts. Her manacled wrists sat on the table, the heavy chain links spilling over the table top to rest between her legs, effectively limiting her movements to close range. There were abrasions on her wrists, standing out red and raw against her skin and – he noted – infected in some places. Overall, Impel Down hadn't been kind to her but she bore the marks with a surprising amount of dignity.

"Seeing as your hands are otherwise occupied," Law rebuked with a pointed glance towards her wrists and took a hold of the tea pot. Even though the so addressed appeared to be ignorant of Wadonese culture, the insult hit home: Nami frowned. Her manacles may have been long enough to allow the required movements, but they were heavier than she'd liked. She wouldn't be able to lift a full tea pot now - not with the added weight of the manacles, the painful abrasions on her wrists and her present weakened condition - the same way she wouldn't be able to defend herself against him if the need arose. They both knew that. The fact that he still expected her to serve him irked her: just because she was a woman, didn't mean she was automatically a waitress.

Trafalgar Law poured himself before sending an inquisitive glance into her direction. "Can I trust you to act civilized during lunch and not throw that at me?"

Nami's gaze fell to the mug placed next to her bowl. It appeared to be plain crockery and if it was, it would leave a nice dent in the Shichibukai's skull once thrown. Provided she didn't miss again. On the other hand…

She wordlessly handed it over and accepted the filled container back with a nod. If the man sitting vis-à-vis from her noticed her effort to remain polite, he didn't show it. Instead, he placed the tea pot back on its warmer and let his gaze sweep over the table, as if making sure everything was in order. Then, he took the lids off the containers set out for him. Steam rose eagerly from the uncovered dishes and with it, the rich smell of curry and beef. There was the customary dish of mixed pickles and a small bowl of tempura and of course a generous helping of rice served in addition to a dark, viscid curry. Nami could make out pieces of beef, potatoes, carrots and bright red peppers. It wasn't an exclusive or particularly fancy meal like the kind that Sanji would serve, but she guessed that none of the top-notch cooks would waste their skill by taking a job in Impel Down. When it came to food, life on the Sunny (and before that, on the Merry) really had spoiled her. But it hadn't made her any less appreciative of a good, honest, solid meal.

Law dug in. That was the only way to properly describe it. He shoveled the food into his mouth with apparent enthusiasm, within moments spreading rice and vegetable bits over his half of the table as well as his face. On a negative scale of table manners from 1 to Luffy, Nami was both shocked and disgusted to find that Trafalgar Law was a Brook.

The navigator suppressed the need to frown and instead reached for the dish set out right before her. The ceramic lid was warm underneath her fingertips and for the barest of moments, she felt relieve mix with the hollowness of her stomach. Then Nami's hand settled onto the outer left bowl and she resolutely flicked off the lids, one by one. Or she would have, if the first lid hadn't revealed itself to be a bowl filled halfway with water. If the arrangement on Law's side was anything to go by this very bowl should contain mixed pickles. The next lid was slightly warm to the touch, corresponding to Law's bowl of tempura and ended up being just as empty of what she'd expected. It, too, was filled with water but someone had heated it to give the illusion of a warm meal underneath. The fine curls of steam rising from the bowl seemed to mock her and Nami felt her anger stir. She didn't need to take off the lid of the last two bowls to know that they were empty, but she forced herself to follow through for pride's sake. She wasn't going to lie down just because they'd decided to let her run the gauntlet. So it wasn't that much of a surprise to find that the largest bowl sitting on her side of the table also contained hot water, whereas the corresponding bowl on Law's side was filled with a generous helping of beef curry. Only the rice bowl sitting right in front of her did actually contain food and the navigator found herself staring at it for a few moments. The bowl wasn't even filled all the way. She had been given her regular, reduced ration of rice but apparently, the kitchen had felt that the occasion was special enough to top the plain rice off with some chopped spring onions and a pinch of roasted sesame.

A volatile mixture of disappointment, frustration and anger bubbled up in her stomach but Nami forced herself to ignore it. She should have known or at least expected something like this. Impel Down was far from being a holiday resort and the man sitting across from her wasn't exactly known for being such a charitable guy. She _should_ have been expecting something like this and it was her own fault that he'd gotten her. She'd blindly stumbled into his clever trap and cursed herself for being so inattentive and gullible. Tentatively, Nami nibbled on her rice. It tasted quite normal and the bits of sesame she could taste were a welcome change. Eyeing the bowls set before her, Nami took the largest bowl on her side and poured some of the steaming hot water it contained over her rice as if it were the most normal thing to do, successfully keeping her hands steady. It was quite an accomplishment since otherwise they would have been shaking with anger. The rice wouldn't have much time steep, but the woman decided she didn't care. Even if it was mostly plain rice, at least it wasn't plain _dry_ rice, which was a step up from where she stood. She didn't miss the twitch of the pirate captain's eyebrows, wondering briefly whether it was surprise or annoyance he'd kept himself from expressing.

Law said something that sounded like he was trying to talk without going through the trouble of chewing or swallowing the food he'd stuffed into his mouth, jabbing his spoon into the direction of the woman's bowl. Nami summarily and effortlessly ignored it, the Shichibukai noted. The only indicator of her displeasure was a slight pinch around her eyes that would increase ever so slightly when he did more than just spray a few grains of rice into her general direction. But overall the navigator wasn't bothered by his lack of manners. He was also mildly surprised that she had managed to one-up him. He hadn't foreseen the woman improvising a dish of chazuke like that and he found himself annoyed with his incapability to anticipate such an action from her.

It was a minor victory and it would be a short-lived one, the Surgeon of Death knew, but even so he couldn't help pettily begrudging her having obtained it. Law decided to rectify this sooner rather than later and forced himself to swallow the mouthful of raw vegetables. They painfully slid down his gullet; a very clear reminder that he really hadn't chewed enough.

He casually picked up his tea and held it out to the red-haired woman, like he'd done a few days ago with a cup of fine whiskey. "To loyalty," he quoted mockingly and Nami inclined her head, picking up her own cup to mirror his movement. Law watched her swallow the liquid with some satisfaction. It was almost disappointing how easy it was to fool her. The score was now up to three points in his favor and inwardly, he laughed at her naivety. Why had she given him so much trouble the first time around? He watched how she carefully spooned out some rice, momentarily surprised to catch a glimpse of orange underneath the white grain. He chanced a look into her bowl: it contained indeed several slices of pickles poorly hidden under the rice. How had those ended up in her bowl? He was certain that earlier there had been only rice in it.

A quick glance to his dish of pickles showed it relatively empty. Was it possible that she'd stolen some of his food? If so, how had she performed this little trick without him noticing? He knew that the Straw Hat navigator had the reputation of being a skilled thief of sorts but he doubted she was this capable. He'd always suspected her to be a better pick-pocket since there had never been any evidence of the Straw Hats making use of her skills, either. He felt that this rather supported his theory.

His gaze went back to the woman, just in time to see her spit out her rice onto her spoon with a repulsed grimace. She gave her food a confused look, clearly not understanding what had just happened. Law shot her a disgusted glance - as if _her_ manners were the ones lacking - and took another sip of tea. Nami contemplatively did the same, unobtrusively trying to wash the foul taste or whatever had caused it away with the warm liquid, much to the doctor's glee. Another spoonful of rice was consumed under his hawkish gaze and rewarded with the very same grimace though this time, Nami visibly forced herself to swallow.

Satisfied with this development Law decided to take it one step further. Picking up a piece of tempura he took a bite out of it, grimaced in a poor imitation of Nami's earlier discomfort and flicked the half-eaten piece of fried shrimp into one of the bowls set out in front of the woman. His aim was true: with a soft 'plop' the shrimp dove into the liquid and remained there. The fried batter swayed gently back and forth, revealing one black eye. Law pretended to either not care or not notice, although it was obvious that the shrimp's presence in that particular bowl was no coincidence.

It was a challenge and an insult, one he hoped the woman would pick up on. The moment the tempura had transgressed into the navigator's half of the table, her eyes had been following it with a certain amount of apprehension, he was pleased to note. There were similar bits of half-eaten beef, vegetables and tempura strewn around the table, but they were all so very clearly in 'his' half, he didn't think she'd dare pick one of them up. Not while he was watching, in any case or while she still had the possibility of somehow - magically - whisking bits of food into her bowl without him noticing.

For a moment Law thought she was going to enter into a staring contest with the half-eaten shrimp but then she cut her eyes to his and he knew she'd understood. Her face showed no anger or rather none that he could identify. Calm rage was the worst kind of rage - Law knew this from personal experience, but that wasn't what he saw in her eyes, either. It was comprehension. 'I know what you're doing' those eyes said and when Nami's spoon fished the bit of shrimp out of the bowl he had tossed it in, her movements were deliberate and concise. She hesitated for a moment when her nose registered that something about the shrimp or rather the liquid it had landed in was off, but ate it anyway, holding his gaze.

She'd made another point. Cat-Burglar Nami would not back down. The Surgeon of Death didn't move a facial muscle, but he could feel a frown tugging on the corners of his mouth. She shouldn't have eaten that piece of tempura like that. She should have felt ashamed or disgusted - not act like it was completely normal. She chewed slowly, clearly savoring the unexpectedly pleasant taste, although the highly concentrated vinegar that the batter had soaked up left behind a raw tingling sensation in her throat. Then she put down her bowl and spoon, looking him clearly in the face with an unreadable expression.

"What did you do?"

She sounded like his mother had (a long time ago that he barely remembered) when she'd caught him trying to hide yet another incompletely dissected critter in his bedroom: calm and in control of the situation. Law felt the fingers of his right hand tighten their grip on the spoon's handle. Nami taking control of the situation like this had definitely not been part of his plan. She was a prisoner, a young girl not even close to his age least alone his intellect. She should not be able to act this calmly, to see through his game and refuse to play it. Again. She did it _again_. Fury, cold and sharp like the steel of his scalpels sank into Law's blood and spread through his limbs, leaving behind the barest veneer of tension possible.

"I don't know what you mean," he said softly and immediately cursed himself for it in his head. Anyone with two functioning brain cells to rub together would know that he'd done _something _to make the food taste horrible and denying it only made it more obvious.

"The food, Captain Trafalgar. What did you do to the food?"

The navigator had the gall to rephrase her enquiry and sounding completely calm doing so. Law put his bowl down, picked up his napkin and leaned back against the couch, pushing his right elbow up against the back rest.

"I've done nothing to the food," he replied evenly, his mouth stretching into his customary smirk of its own accord as he discreetly wiped the remnants of food from his face. The methodical movements told the navigator that his manners, or lack thereof, had been for show.

"The tea then." Nami tugged a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Law's smirk widened in response to her comment.

"Ah. The tea," he said. The fingers of his right hand twitched and in a lazy half motion, he gestured at the pot with an enquiring tilt of his head. Nami nodded. "I haven't done anything to that, either."

So far, this was true. The Heart pirate hadn't done anything to the food or the drink. He would be drinking the tea same as her, which meant tampering with the pot was out of the question and Law's only chance of slipping her something with her food would have been the rice. But he would have had to cook it himself in order to get the desired results, which was out of the question for various reasons. Of course, the red-haired woman wasn't aware of any of these points.

"Oh?" Nami asked. The other pirate grinned. There was no way he was going to pass up a chance of mocking her once more and so he gave a short nod.

"Indeed. The food has been prepared by the kitchen staff. I have to admit now that I've tasted it I understand why you always refused to eat anything but the rice."

His jibe didn't have the desired effect. In fact the woman didn't appear to be offended at all; the reason for this being probably the circumstance that he no longer had her undivided attention. Instead, she was eyeing her bowls contemplatively.

"This," the navigator said, pointing at the container out of which she had fished the half-eaten fried shrimp, "is vinegar."

Law leaned forward, picked up the bowl and carefully smelled its content. "Your powers of observation are simply astounding. This is, indeed, vinegar," he drawled, placing the bowl back on its customary spot.

"Would you like to explain why this is the only thing on the table that doesn't taste foul and rotten to me?"

It was a loaded question, the Shichibukai thought, and the woman was leaving herself wide open for all sorts of sarcastic comments and insults. Out of the multitude that came to mind, he chose the simplest one. It promised to be the most entertaining.

"No," he deadpanned.

Didn't they say that promises were made to be broken? This one was.

Instead of becoming angry like he had expected her to (that temper of hers was going to have to show up, eventually), Nami picked up her cutlery again. With little ceremony she sampled a spoonful of liquid from every bowl standing in front of her. When she made a motion to dip her spoon into his tea cup, Law was quick to snatch it up and keep it out of her reach. There was a moment where he felt like he'd just shot himself in the knee and given away his game. Why had he reached for the cup? Now, there was a rather pleased little smile on the woman's face, as if she'd just figured something out. Law cursed himself - he'd been played. In the following moment of silence, Nami appeared to contemplate what she had just learned, then decided to hazard a guess.

"You slipped something into my tea to mess up my sense of taste."

"Tell me, do you make it a habit to steal food from other people's plates?" he countered instead. It was a weak defense and nothing in Nami's posture or expression gave any indicator of whether or not he'd hit home. She ignored his remark, continuing her train of thought out loud.

"Robin once told me that there are plants that make sour and bitter things taste sweet. You used one of those, didn't you? It makes things that taste pleasant unpleasant and unpleasant things, like pure vinegar, pleasant."

She'd just about evened the score. Even if he didn't tell her about the reverse cherry, his game had been found out and cut short. A plan that was unexpectedly thwarted and irked him. It would, he thought, have irked Joker, too. If it had been _his _plan. He'd probably laugh now; Law's plan of humiliating the Straw Hat navigator and reinforcing his superiority to her had backfired spectacularly. This probably wouldn't have happened to Doflamingo. In fact, the other man probably would have forced her to see the plan through to what he considered its conclusion, anyway. In other words...

"Eat up."

The two words settled over the room, heavy like lead. Yes, Doflamingo would have forced her to eat every last crumb of food on that table. Of course in the event that she should be stubborn, Law would have to resort to physical force to feed the woman, whereas his former employer had other means available. But she would eat and he would watch. He was not going to lose this round.

"You must be hungry. Starving, even. There's plenty of food left, seven-three seven-three. Eat your fill."

He hoped she would be stubborn. He shifted on the couch, making himself comfortable as if she were about to put on a quite different kind of a show. Cold grey eyes remained fixed on the Straw Hat navigator, studying her bowl of food.

"Or maybe all you want is to down that vinegar because it's the only thing that will wash away that foul taste in your mouth?"

Her response was to pick up her spoon and eat.

She finished her rice bowl and she did it with a mostly straight face. They exchanged no words while she ate and he watched. When she put down the empty bowl, he pushed the tempura into her direction. It was a wordless command and she followed it without hesitation. The pickles came next and it was only when she'd halfway finished them that he realized she had been sneaking small doses of the vinegar into her food to make the foul taste of the reverse cherry bearable.

She had tricked him again.

It was possible she didn't know that nothing good came from resisting him and needed more than his gentle hand to learn. Law leaned forward, pushing the two bowls holding his leftover rice and curry in front of Nami. Then he reached for the bowl with the vinegar, holding it at arm's length before tipping it over and emptying its contents onto the floor. He smashed the plain white bowl onto the tiles and it shattered in a satisfying little crash.

Nami couldn't help but feel that this was a warning of sorts. Sinking back into the couch, the Heart pirate's captain regarded her coolly, fingers drumming a sequence bereft of any noticeable rhythm against the worn fabric of the upholstery.

"One spoon," he instructed and the navigator reached for the first bowl. "After you finished that tea."

Trafalgar Law was feeling uncharacteristically vindictive, a sentiment only few people could invoke in him. Vergo had been someone like that. Doflamingo, too. Nami's offense wasn't even coming closing to either of theirs and still he felt the need to take things one step further. The plan had been to humiliate her, use it as a means to punish her for the audacity to not only refuse him but also throw something at him. It had been an idea conceived on the fly, too, lingering at the back of his mind when Prison Warden Hannyabal had given him a summary of the navigator's imprisonment and he had first learned of her peculiar eating habits. When he'd stepped into the elevator to leave level 6 again three days ago, it had already become a plan: let her famish for a few days and then humiliate her over lunch, taunting her with a proper meal that she couldn't have and ruin what little food she would end up being served. He'd taken Vergo's eating habits as an inspiration and chose the reverse cherry, a particularly nasty lesson from his own past, as a means to make his point. She should have been sitting in that seat, fuming quietly (or not so quietly), feeling insulted, offended and most of all unimportant and small next to him. She was weak and he wanted her to know it.

The problem was, he slowly came to realize, that she was none of those things. She was strong and willful and she subjected herself to his taunts and beastliness with a calmness he wouldn't have expected her to have. She did as she was told, but it didn't feel like an acknowledgement of his strength or power. It felt like she was humoring him.

"Do we really need all these games?"

She let her quiet question hang in the air as she tipped her head back and downed the tea. Law didn't answer and instead watched her take a spoonful of curry and rice. There was a nice piece of beef on the spoon. The red-haired woman held his gaze until the moment she pushed the spoon into her mouth. A shudder went through the female's body and her eyes scrunched shut in a grimace. She gagged and Law made a chiding noise in the back of his throat.

Nami turned her face away. It was difficult for her to bring herself to set the spoon down and to begin to slowly chew the food, but somehow she managed. Never in her whole life had she tasted something so foul and utterly disgusting. She couldn't stop shaking, breaking into a cold sweat as she desperately forced her jaws to continue chewing. Her eyes stung with unshed tears that she very much wanted to suppress, but between the vileness in her mouth and the weight of Law's gaze she didn't know from where she was to take the needed strength. She loathed the moment she would have to swallow; uncertain for how much longer she would be able to put it off. Her throat kept constricting whenever she tried to force the mass down and she could feel bile rise in her throat.

Law watched her with some satisfaction. He'd made his point: humoring him and obeying him were two very different things. If the paleness of her skin and the wet gleam of her eyes was anything to go by, the Straw Hat navigator had finally understood this.

Nami heard rather than saw the man on the couch move into action. The creaking of the springs and the rustling of fabric were followed by the scrape of ceramic on a wooden surface. Then something white moved sharply in the periphery of her bleary vision. It took her a few moments to realize that it was a bowl, held out by her tormentor. He repeated the motion, a mute command to spit it out and Nami gratefully obeyed.

"We only need them if you make them necessary," he said, putting the bowl down. "Now, we can talk."

The silence settling between them was heavy and eerily solid. Nami shifted in her seat, trying to get at least a little comfortable without stretching her limbs and therewith exposing them to the coolness that crept up from the tiled floor or the dampness of the trickle of vinegar moving towards the drain under the table. Her brown eyes scanned the leftovers of the lunch set out between herself and the Surgeon of Death. Her stomach no longer felt as hollow as before, but she was far from full. She wouldn't have minded finishing even the deliberately spilled food, as she was no stranger to adversity and during her time travelling alone had been forced to eat far worse things. But whatever Trafalgar Law had put into her tea rendered all food inedible to her. The taste was foul and sickening and without the vinegar to temper it, there was no need to try and force herself to eat more. The foul, vile taste still lingered in her mouth, but Nami didn't dare ask for another cup of tea. Instead she hoped that the effect was temporary - and that she would not receive another dose before dinner.

The silence remained even as an Impel Down guard entered the room pushing a serving trolley. The guard began clearing the bowls from the table, but didn't bother to clean up the mess Law had made. 'So there is some sort of surveillance,' Nami thought with a certain amount of relieve. There was no other explanation to how else the guard had known when precisely to enter the room and she considered the possibility that someone was not only watching but also listening in on the conversation taking place between them. Compared to her earlier fears of being rendered completely helpless and alone with the Shichibukai, Nami was feeling torn between relief and wariness. The fact that what transpired in the room was somehow transported outside did not protect her from the other pirate's cruelty or make the situation any less dangerous, but it also meant that she still had a certain worth, which gave her an edge, however dull it might be.

The trolley was noisily pushed out of the room the bowls clattering loud as the little wheels rattled along the tiled floor and then the door was closed again. Nami caught a fleeting glimpse of the corridor: the guards that had escorted her earlier remained stationed outside the door but Domino appeared to be gone. 'How are they keeping tabs on us?' she wondered.

"Look at me."

The command was given quietly in a tone of voice that did not even consider the possibility of a refusal. For this reason, Nami would have liked to disobey, but stubbornness was only going to take her so far with the man sitting in front of her. So she raised her head and she gave him a look that had once been reserved for Arlong: cold and edged like the shark fish man's teeth. It was by no means a submissive look and it just so managed not to be a defiant one, either. It was a look that met the dark-skinned man head on, although her position on the floor and his greater body height made it necessary for her to tilt her head back in order to meet his eyes. Something she figured he had done on purpose; he wanted her to look up to him and to feel small under the weight of his calm and emotionless gaze. To a certain degree, it actually worked: Trafalgar Law was no less creepy and disturbing now than he'd been the last time they'd met. The whole point of this second meeting, it seemed, was to drive home the fact that he was superior to her in any and all aspects. And although Nami would beg to differ, she wisely refrained from doing so _now_. Law was willing to talk and for now, the Straw Hat navigator knew well enough to listen.

"You disappoint me, seven-three seven-three."

This was a statement that, Nami felt, was supposed to launch the Shichibukai into a speech of sorts and so she remained quiet. She wondered if he had rehearsed it because he seemed the type who didn't leave anything up to chance and planned through any conceivable circumstance, up to and including any possible mental lapses he might have while spieling. For all purposes, Trafalgar Law seemed to be choosing his words with great care.

"One would think that a person who has successfully thwarted any attempt of being interrogated would also be smart enough to accept any generously made offer to leave Impel Down behind within a heartbeat. Not even the dead leave Impel Down unless the world government has use for their bodies. And yet you refused my offer."

His pause was well-timed, he knew. For maximum effect he studied the mediocre cup in his hands as if it were a particularly fascinating piece of craftsmanship. The woman sitting opposite him didn't comment and Law didn't expect her to. In fact, he interpreted her silence and her lowered head as to being good signs. It meant that he'd finally gotten it through that head of hers that he was the one in control. He didn't bother to hide the flicker of satisfaction that danced across his face.

"You've handled yourself well, proven that you're smarter than mere cannon fodder. It'd be a shame to waste that so this," he said, holding up the tattooed index finger of his left hand to underline his warning, "is your last chance."

Only when his tanned hand moved to close around it did Nami notice the existence of the dirty cloth bundle sitting comfortably and half hidden behind Law. She hadn't seen it before because he'd been sprawled across the couch when she had entered and during their lunch, it had been cleverly hidden at his back with the fabric peeking out at one side. Perspective and a table full of similarly colored bowls had done the rest.

He lifted the bundle easily with one hand, letting it dangle in his grip. Whatever it contained, it was apparently quite heavy and not very small. Nami couldn't imagine what it might be - manacles were out of the question, as Impel Down had already provided her with a set.

"I told you that you would be joining me one way or another. You refused one way. This is another."

The bundle was set down with a resounding 'clang' as metal met wood. The pirate captain's hand fanned out in a suave gesture, inviting the woman to a closer inspection of the object he had just set before her. She followed his invitation, not only because his eyes had hardened the moment she'd looked up to watch him reach for the bundle. Carefully she began to push the fabric aside, only to freeze in mid-motion.

Nami had seen this before. The first time had been a few years ago, the last shortly after reuniting with her nakama. Both times she had been disgusted by the item her visitor had brought her but right now she felt fear creep up her spine the longer she looked at the dull gleaming metallic ring.

It was a slave collar.

"I'd hate to have to use this," Trafalgar Law said earnestly. She wasn't sure whether that was an act or whether he was actually being truthful, then decided it didn't matter because _she_ didn't want him to use it, either.

The Straw Hat navigator opened her mouth to say something but Law was pleased to note that her voice failed her on her first attempt. Was she seeing her mermaid friend, shackled in a gigantic fish glass in front of her mind's eye? She tried to speak again but he interrupted her before she could bring a word out.

"Join my crew."


	3. Three

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or claim to own the story or associated characters of Eiichiro Oda's "One Piece". No profit is gained from the writing and publishing of this story, no copyright infringement intended. Should this story be deemed offensive by either the legal owners and/or representatives of One Piece, Mr Oda or this website, respectively, the story will of course be taken down immediately with full apologies extended.

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**Notes: **I'd like to thank the wonderful **Kinjiru**, who helped me whip this story into publishing quality in record time because if it weren't for Kinjiru you'd be stuck waiting at least one more week for this update. This does not include all the thanks I owe Kinjiru for helping me figure out every single plot crisis I've thrown their way via PM practically since the New Year began (and there were many, let me tell you that).

We have now officially transgressed into A/U (Alternate Universe) land and this story contains **spoilers** for the manga up to and including **Chapter 695**. Details on how exactly this story branches off from canon will be contained in the additional notes at the end of this chapter.

Lastly I would like to say that I all your kind reviews have made me extremely happy and excited for this story to the point that I got frustrated for being unable to write as fast and well as I want to. All your reviews make me strive harder to write a better story and I cherish them all. Those that have already left a signed review already know this, but for everyone else I would like to say that I am in the habit of responding to signed reviews as soon as I can. If you have any questions concerning this story or anything about it that you'd like to discuss, I can only encourage you to sign up for an account and leave a signed review so that I can answer you.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter, although I have failed yet again to present the full plot.

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**_Three._**

_Wherein a pirate's purpose leaves room for speculation._

Whatever kind of mental battle plan Nami had prepared for their inevitable reunion seemed to have flown out of the window once she had identified the item Law had brought her. There was little one could say when facing the prospect of one's own enslavement, Law knew, particularly if one was caught up in a situation where the prospect could (and would) end up being one's inevitable fate. The Straw Hat navigator's face was stricken, displaying something that to his eternal amusement, stubbornly tried not to morph into terror or panic.

Impel Down was as close to hell as a man-made holding facility could be, which was _very _close in most people's opinion. But in the end, it was nothing but a mirror of the things feared by those who had built it; and although many considered it to be the worst possible fate to befall a person, the pirate captain thought different. There were fates far worse than anything lurking in Impel Down, worse even than anything government officials could come up with. Slavery was one such thing, in Law's opinion, and he was mildly surprised to learn that the red-haired woman apparently shared this sentiment, if her reaction was anything to go by.

Nami's mind was racing. Would this man go so far as to enslave her? (The answer to this one she already knew beyond a doubt - this was Trafalgar Law, after all.) But why? What skill did she supposedly possess that warranted such methods? What could she do that his crew couldn't? Oh sure, there were a few things that immediately sprung to mind, but none of these seemed to be even of remote significance to the dark haired man sitting before her from where she stood. Certainly, none of those skills were worth the effort he went through to drag her out of her cell and bully her into submission.

And still there were those quiet, menacing words, his order, hanging between them. Unacknowledged and unanswered so far, but this time, Nami knew, she wouldn't be able to ignore his words or play them down. She'd meant to lead him down a carefully constructed winding path of arguments, back and forth before seemingly giving in to his demands to ensure she got what she wanted – what she needed – out of this deal. But this was no longer an option. Trafalgar Law wasn't in the mood for games or further delays.

"Shocked speechless becomes you, seven-three seven-three," he drawled and a part of Nami thought that it was unfair how comfortable he was while facing her discomfort. They fell back into a silence that was comfortable only on Law's end. Nami continued to struggle with her own composure and the need to somehow articulate herself. It would not do if he decided that her sudden and prolonged silence was to be taken as a sign of continued rebellion that warranted the use of the iron monstrosity resting half-hidden _underneath_the cloth on the table.

"If you don't know what to say," Law began conversationally, "just nod and we'll call it a deal."

In the end it was that self-satisfied and arrogant 'cat that got the cream'-tone of voice of his that ended up anchoring Nami and focusing her thoughts. She had to go through with her plan even if it backfired and she'd end up enslaved. There was no time to come up with something else. When she finally managed to tear her wide eyes away from the collar and focus on him, Trafalgar Lawwas every inch the smug victor. He didn't bother hiding his satisfaction with this turn of events: both of them knew that there wasn't much she could do to counter a slave collar. But she would have to try, because her nakama depended on her; because they were going to need her and because she needed them just as much. But one step at a time. First things first.

Her voice was small and her words came out slowly courtesy _of _the hesitancy that came with carefully choosing your words when facing a hopeless and dangerous situation in which one word could end you or your freedom.

"I have two questions, if I may?" she enquired and to Nami's dismay, her tone was uncertain as if she were scared. She hadn't wanted that. No matter what, she didn't want this man to think that she was scared of him or the collar, even though right now, she was. It was the sort of open acknowledgement of his power that would give the Shichibukai the edge he needed. The edginess of Law's smirk told her that he knew. In response to her question, he made a vague gesture that was careless and patronizing at the same time, indicating for her to carry on.

"Can you guarantee that Cocoyashi will be spared?" the Straw Hat navigator asked. If he could - if he _would_ - then she might stand a chance, however small it was. The man's lips stretched into a lazy grin that was devoid of any warmth.

"No," was Law's prompt reply and he took delight from the woman's shocked expression. Clearly, she hadn't understood what he'd told her three days ago, and although there was no obligation to do so, he decided to explain it to her again, if only for the pleasure of rubbing it in.

"I've told you before: whether or not it'll be spared depends on you and how willing you are to co-operate, Miss Nami. I am not the one who _can _guarantee that, am I?" There was a hint of a threat in his tone and the woman swallowed hard.

Could she pull this off? Joining him meant that the threat of a Buster Call would be her constant companion. Could she risk other people's lives like that? But then, did she really have another choice?

"What else would you like to ask?" he enquired silkily, leaning forward with an expression of rapt attention. An involuntary shiver raced down the woman's spine. It was uncomfortable to be the focus of his attention like that.

Nami's fingers played with one of the chain links shackling her wrists together. The Shichibukai wasn't sure whether this was because she was scared to ask her second question or because she was struggling with what he had just told her. After all, he thought, it wasn't every day that she was told that her decisions could end the existence of an entire village. It was completely understandable that she struggled or even faltered under the weight of such responsibility. In fact, he had banked on it. In the long run, it would make dealing with her that much easier. Patiently, he waited for her to ask her second question and when she did, he was at least momentarily surprised.

"What... what would you need me to do?"

He hadn't expected for her to question his need of her. Of course, she didn't trust him (and a part of him itched to tell her to do just that, scold her the way she had once scolded him for the sake of sweet, sweet irony and his personal amusement) but the Nami _he_ knew had been painfully aware of her strengths. And they wereuseful and unique enough to warrant springing her from jail because as far as Law knew, there were only few people around that could create and control lightning with what appeared to be a regular bo staff _without_ having consumed a devil fruit beforehand. In fact, the exact amount of people he knew capable of this was 'one'. He also hadn't forgotten her claim that she was capable of creating wind, which made for two weather phenomenon she could control or at least cause. Possibly, there were more of which he wasn't aware right now. And then there was of course his _other _reason for wanting her presence on board of his ship.

The tentative alliance with the Straw Hats hadn't gone the way it had been planned. They had failed to achieve their objective of kidnapping Caesar Clown thanks to the combined efforts of Baby 5 and Buffalo and Luffy's incapability of sticking to even the simplest of plans. Law had dreaded an outcome like that and he'd been none too pleased when despite his fool-proof planning – he'd thought it fool-proof but the Straw Hat was an even bigger fool than he could have anticipated – Caesar had gotten away. It had been infuriating. Even more so, because the Straw Hat apparently hadn't cared or understood that their plan had just gone down the drain. The discussions that followed led to a small falling out halfway to Green Bit. Law had to give the Straw Hat captain props for not tossing him overboard then and there – other pirates surely wouldn't have dropped him off at the rendezvous point for him and his crew, but this crew had.

Only afterwards he'd realized that he had made a mistake. Idiot captain or not, the Straw Hat Pirates and their strength were vital to the plan's success. As much as he hated to admit it, Law would have to find a way to get on Monkey D. Luffy's good side again. And was there a better way to achieve that than to reunite the crew with their precious navigator? In so far, Cat-Thief Nami's capture had been a gift from above.

But the woman wasn't aware of this, now was she? So what was the reason for her question?

It was true that according to all reports concerning the Straw Hat Pirates (and he'd read a few of those during the past weeks, thanks to Akainu), their navigator was considered to be one of the weakest members of the crew, superior to the crew's 'pet', only. Law, who had seen firsthand what Nami and the reindeer doctor were capable of, had to concede that as far as weaknesses went, the Straw Hats were an exceptional crew: what was considered a weak member in their crew could easily handle threats other pirates would surrender to without even trying. In so far, the Marine Headquarters' assumptions concerning the navigator's strength and purpose among the crew were preposterous: labeling her a not-entirely-useless fighter but not a true threat in the grand scheme of things, either, was not doing her justice, nor was the assumption that her revealing, almost vulgar clothing style could be an indicator of her true position on board. The Straw Hat Pirates weren't that kind of a crew and Monkey D. Luffy wasn't that kind of a captain. In fact, Law would be honestly surprised if the exuberant pirate should turn out to have even a passing interest in carnal affairs that didn't involve second helpings and the chance to steal from his seat neighbors' plates.

When he'd first requested the Marine's reports on the exploits of the Straw Hat Pirates, Law had been warned by Akainu that several of them were assumed to grossly exaggerate the crew's skills in order to gloss over the Marine's own shortcomings and failures _as well as _thefact that they hadn't taken their opponents serious. Even the report made by the CP 9 agents who had fought and lost to the Straw Hat Pirates at Enies Lobby was considered to be at least partially untrue. Obviously, their lies had been made with the intention to play down their own cockiness, but this plan had backfired and all agents had been discharged. Still the question remained what exactly Cat-Thief Nami's purpose was on board of the Straw Hat's ship - a question Law had often asked himself until he had seen her in action for the first time on Punk Hazard.

There was little doubt that Nami was a capable navigator. The New World was not an 'easy' sea to sail and conquer and neither was – for the matter – the first half of the Grand Line. It was safe to say that her crew wouldn't have made it this far if she didn't possess some above-average navigational skills, like his own navigator. Unless her captain had a monopoly on dumb luck, which admittedly sometimes did seem to be case. But shouldn't the woman in question know better? _She_ knew wherein her skills lay, didn't she? Or did the circumstance that her crew had not freed her from her underwater prison have anything to do with it? Did she doubt her own worth in light of the (uncharacteristic, he'd have to admit that) abandonment of her crew?

Trafalgar Law knew that the World Government had been afraid of another infiltration of Impel Down. Afraid enough to 'stock up' on Pacifista and to keep at least _some_ Shichibukai nearby during the first two weeks of her imprisonment. Justin case the Straw Hats decided to make an appearance and tried to turn the prison upside down. This hadn't occurred and the Marines had assumed that either the Straw Hat navigator had already been replaced by her crew or that the crew didn't dare to openly confront Akainu like that.

Trafalgar Law didn't agree with either of those theories, although the Heart Pirate's captain had been surprised to find that his 'ally' (in the loosest sense of the word) hadn't made an attempt to free his navigator yet. A man who hadn't been willing to leave anyone behind on an island filled with deadly gas, be they friend or foe, would not so easily abandon a trusted crew member. The sheer amount of time Nami had spent as the crew's navigator meant that any assumptions of her _not_ being trusted or valued were preposterous. Law hadn't thought the rubber man capable of doing the smart thing in such a situation and move on, but apparently he had for some reason decided to do just that. And while he himself would have grudgingly done the same, the fact that Luffy had actually done it remained a point of great puzzlement. Any explanation the Shichibukai could come up with posed a direct contradiction to what he knew about the Straw Hat crew and their captain. It was an intriguing conundrum he had found himself pondering during the last three days, with barely any results for show.

Maybe he was going to indulge himself later on and see what he could learn from the woman but for now...

"I need you to navigate," the Surgeon of Death replied, sounding as if it were obvious and Nami was being deliberately obtuse. "Mister Straw Hat's course has proven to be difficult to track and predict. It should be easy enough for you, don't you think? _You_ are his navigator."

He leaned forward, deliberately seeking her gaze and holding it. "Help me catch up with him. That's all I'm asking."

Nami's brown eyes swiveled downwards to lock onto the slave collar on the table and stayed there. She pressed her lips together tightly_,_ and under the pressure, they thinned and turned pale. She'd known before that he had her cornered - he'd made sure of that - and now she knew what was at stake: her loved ones as well as her nakama. There was no way out. Either she refused, risked her home town's destruction _or_ she agreed and thereby condemned her captain and nakama to an unknown (but not inconceivable) fate. The Heart Pirate's captain idly scanned the room, pleased with himself even as the silence stretched into what felt like hours.

"Well?"

The silence between them was heavy and solid. This had to be the reason why although she spoke quietly, Nami's words felt unusually loud, even to herself.

"I won't join your crew."

There was a moment in which Nami wasn't sure whether the Shichibukai had heard her and Law wasn't sure whether he'd heard _right_. Apparently, it couldn't be helped, but—

"I won't join your crew," she repeated and then added, "but I will do what you demand."

The pirate captain froze in mid-reach for the slave collar and his lips stretched into a slow, menacing smile.

"Really?" he drawled and he didn't bother to hide his pleasure as he sank back into the couch and got comfortable again.

"Yes," the woman confirmed and he couldn't help but feel that she looked as if she had surrendered herself to a deal with the devil. If he would have been so inclined, Law would have sympathized, but Cat-Thief Nami probably didn't know what a real devil looked like anyway and he liked to think of himself as positively harmless in direct comparison.

"You will follow my orders?"

"Yes."

"Well, well. I suppose that means that I won't be needing this after all," Law said casually and inclined his head towards the collar.

Part of him felt annoyed at the fact that he'd had to resort to such measures as it felt a little like cheating. However, the situation _had_ called for it. Time was a crucial factor and he couldn't afford any more delays. Besides, why dally with smooth and sophisticated if swift and merciless got the job done just as well? Personal preferences aside, the Shichibukai's priorities were rather straight forward and self-indulgence was only an option, not a necessity for him.

The pirate captain threw back the last dredges of his tea and audibly set down his cup. He rose out of his seat smoothly and just as he did so, the door opened. Nami once again had to wonder about the prison warden's surveillance methods, which evidently existed even if they weren't visible to the naked eye.

"Prisoner seven-three seven-three, Cat-Thief Nami of the Straw Hat Pirates," Chief Guard Domino stated with more authority than Nami was used from the blonde. The so-addressed slowly got to her feet.

"Present," she replied evenly.

"By special request of Fleet Admiral Sakatsuki and order of the World Government, you will be released into the custody of Royal Shichibukai Trafalgar Law as of today. Your sentence remains pending until the order expires_," _the blonde stated matter-of-factly before turning to Law_._ "Royal Shichibukai Trafalgar Law, you have been granted full legal power of attorney to act as the prisoner's warden on behalf of the World Government. You are solely responsible for the prisoner and her actions. As the acting warden, you have not been empowered to carry out a sentence relating to the prisoner in your care unless a special power of attorney has been granted to you. You are required to take any actions necessary to ensure the prisoner's continued survival and imprisonment. You have been granted permission to choose the means to achieve this at your own discretion."

Well _damn_.

"Now please follow me."

The Heart Pirate's grin was triumphant and satisfied as the woman followed the order with slow, well-measured steps. Her face was a stony mask of cool composure, but underneath it he thought he caught a glimpse of something that might have been accomplishment.

In the dimly lit corridor through which Domino lead, their steps were a steady rhythm, almost moving in tandem with the flickering lights scarcely illuminating the hallway and punctuated by distant screams or pleas. It was _difficult _to tell them apart and Nami tried hard not to dwell too long on it. Their group was now even larger than before, consisting of Chief-Guard Domino, whom Nami was following, and about twice as many prison guards to escort them than before. But the red-haired woman was only aware of the crunch of Law's black dress shoes a scant five steps behind her. Her gut twisted uncomfortably, her feelings unsurprisingly mixed. She'd done it_. _She'd regained her freedom or rather: she'd taken the first step to regain it._ B_ut the thought of leaving Impel Down didn't cause the expected relieve or elation. She was leaving Impel Down only to join the Surgeon of Death on his home turf - the yellow submarine named 'Death' (and didn't that sound like a child's song of sorts?). It was alright to feel apprehension, even worry. But she'd dealt with the hardships_,_ that had swept into her life unexpected and terrifying like something straight out of a nightmare_,_ when she'd been a child. Surely dealing with the sadistic captain of the Heart Pirates shouldn't be that difficult after having played the monsters for so long.

And yet having the tall man tailing her in the semi-darkness of the corridor gave her the strange feeling of being stalked by something dangerous. It didn't help that she knew this to be a fact of sorts.

Domino abruptly stopped and turned around. The dim lights played over her sunglasses and Nami caught sight of the Shichibukai's reflection in them, towering over her own. She was proud of herself for suppressing the shudder that wanted to tingle along the length of her spine, and instead forcedherself to focus on Domino.

"Well. This is it," the blonde said. A shrill bell sounded as the heavy double gate behind her was slowly pulled open by some groaning, unseen machinery. Domino gave a sharp nod and Nami followed her into what appeared to be a gigantic stock room of sorts.

Countless shelves filled the vast space, all of them numbered and loaded to the point of bursting with boxes the size of shoe-boxes_. _A mesh wire construction going from floor to ceiling separated a positively tiny area at the front from the actual stock area. It gave the impression of being the rickety prison version of a hotel's reception desk. Somewhere in the vastness of the room a cacophony of different pitched 'puru puru'-calls filled the air with noise, courtesy ofseveral den den mushis trying to make themselves noticed. There were more guards on the inside of the storage area and Nami was intrigued to note that their attention was mostly focused on the Surgeon of Death. Unlike the corridor they had been following, the air in the storage room was stiff with the stale scent of dust and old coffee_,_ with faint traces of sugar and vanilla wafting in between.

There was the sound of feet shuffling and a few moments later, a thin man came into view. Nami assumed him to be the correction officer. The top of his head was completely bald and what little remained of his hair was a sandy brown color, from the almost mockingly full hair wrapping around the length of his head to his bushy brows and mustache. His eyes were a barely distinguishable pale shade of either blue or green, though it might have been gray, too, appearing to be tiny dots behind his red-rimmed glasses sitting rather comfortably on a long, upturned nose. The man's expression spoke of carefully feigned boredom and Nami assumed that it had something to do with the long, platinum blond hair that stubbornly clung to his black tie. The corrections officer shot Domino a weary look.

"Prisoner seven-three seven-three, Cat-Thief Nami of the Straw Hat Pirates," the blonde announced.

"What wing?" the officer asked.

"Maximum wing, block 9. The prisoner is temporarily released into the custody of the Royal Shichibukai Trafalgar Law."

"Okay, give me a minute," the man said giving a short nod and vanishing again.

He returned with two boxes, setting them down and flipping off the lid of one box. He removed a sheet that had been lying on top off the first box and began to read out loud from the list, pulling the corresponding items from the box as he went along: "One black suit jacket. One pair of black suit pants. One hat, black. One pair of sungla-"

"Just a second," Nami interrupted and then gestured vaguely at the items being laid out. "What is this?"

"Your possessions, of course," the officer stated, sounding nonplussed.

"Absolutely _not_," the navigator replied and crossed her arms.

"Of course! Seventy seventy. These are your possessions."

Domino coughed politely. "Seven-_three_ seven-_three, _Kranzof, not seventy seventy," she said quietly.

The officer blushed a deep scarlet and hastily stuffed the clothes back into the box, shoving them aside quickly and hurrying back into the storage area. Someone snickered. When Kranzof returned, he was carefully balancing several boxes stacked into a shaky tower. As he'd done before, the corrections officer opened the boxes one after another, reading their contents off a clipboard and placing them on the desk for everyone to see. Law quirked an eyebrow. This was probably going to take a while.

"One Criminal brand black and white striped top. One cropped Criminal brand black studded leather jacket. One pair of blue denim pants. One black and silver holster belt. One pair of leather sandals. One golden bracelet. One three-needled log pose, broken. One pair of golden hoop earrings. One hair comb. One shopping bag containing two Shabondy Sidings brand miniskirts, one yellow, one white, one black Shabondy Sidings brand tank top and one Shabondy Sidings brand red dress. One shopping bag containing three Burning Subject brand t-shirts, one leather studded belt and two pairs of denim pants. One Cece Chanol brand shopping bag containing one black stole, one black dress and one pair of black shoes. One..."

And the list went on. Law found himself briefly wondering whether the abundance of shopping bags that was slowly brought to the dim lighting of the storage room, was perhaps the reason the navigator hadn't been able to escape the Marines' grasp. Shoes, clothes, jewelry, and - lo and behold - even the odd book tossed in between. Fleeing would have proven much simpler if only she'd thrown her purchases away, but apparently this hadn't been a valid option. Another bag was freed from its dusty card-board prison and the bright pink stripes brought a smirk to the Shichibukai's lips that had nothing to do with the bag's contents.

"One Victorious Mysteries brand shopping bag containing... containing..."

The officer's face slowly turned red with embarrassment and he swallowed hard. With some hesitancy, he reached into the pink-striped Victorious Mysteries bag to retrieve the first item of its contents, then thought better of it and used one of the pens stuffed into his shirt pocket to fish for the individual articles. The action reminded Law of little boys scared to infect themselves with cooties, which led to a rather interesting thought about lingerie and quarantine at the periphery of his mind. It was discarded easily when the officer continued to fulfill his duty of naming and laying out all of the prisoner's possessions before her.

"One Victorious Mysteries brand red b-bra, t-two red matching p-pa-panties, one black bra-"

"Black lace," Nami interrupted and her tone of voice suggested, that this was an important distinction to make.

The officer nodded numbly, swallowed and continued to Law's amusement in a dry, hoarse voice: "black la-lace bra, two... two black matching lace... panties and... and... twenty-three thousand and seven hundred beli," he ended, holding up a thick, powder yellow envelope. "Sign... sign here."

There was a moment of astonished and disbelieving silence, which Law felt compelled to disperse with a dry comment.

"Such a wide selection and you chose the striped jumpsuit."

Nami didn't rise to the bait while she watched the officer unceremoniously stuffing her belongings back into any available bags, then she quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm missing something," she said eventually. The officer shot an uncertain look towards the Chief-Guard and the Straw Hat navigator tensed. If the Marines had disposed of her clima tact, she was going to be in trouble.

"Royal Shichibukai Trafalgar Law will be taking possession of your bo staff," Domino replied evenly.

Nami didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed and the pirate captain's face had returned to being as mockingly blank as it had been earlier. Deciding that there was nothing she could do about it right now, Nami reluctantly leaned forward to sign the form. She scribbled something that looked like a X with a round swirl attached to it at the top onto the dotted line - it was as much effort as she was willing to invest into signing her name with her hands still manacled. Straightening her form, she was faced with Domino holding up a set of keys. The relief Nami felt when both of her wrists were unshackled was physical only. The clinking and clanking of the heavy metal cuffs was accompanied by a symphony of 'puru puru' and the sound of weapons being readied and aimed at the female pirate. The pirates shared a look of bemusement that was brief, cut off by the realization that the other found the guards' actions as amusing as oneself did.

Gingerly, Nami rubbed the bright red and chafed skin of her wrists_ and_ began picking up the massive amount of shopping bags with the ease and grace of an experienced shopper. In a sharp, authoritative gesture Domino pointed the Straw Hat navigator towards a moldy curtain. It was barely distinguishable from the dirty, moldy stone masonry that surrounded it. Nami followed the unspoken command and pulled the curtain to the side. Behind it was what deserved to be called the tiniest and dirtiest changing room in existence. Nami made a face, but pulled the curtain shut behind herself.

It didn't take her too long to re-emerge from it, unsurprisingly sporting some of the previously unworn clothes rather than those she had been captured in. The pair of pale denim pants combined with the loose fitting top easily concealed how much weight she had lost and instead diverted the casual onlooker's eye to what curves she still had in a flattering manner. With her hair pulled up into a pony tail, the golden hoops dangling from her ears caught the light easily, drawing attention to pale column of her neck. She had shrugged into the jacket. Its rolled up sleeves did nothing to hide the marks of her imprisonment and neither did the broken log pose and golden bracelet she was wearing. Her feet were clad in a pair of her signature orange sandals and between the red of her hair and the crimson of her top, she somehow managed to make the orange look less flamboyant than it ought to be. The shopping bags were dangling from her hands and obscured the empty black leather holster sitting on her right hip.

She resembled her old self, that ofthe woman whose wanted poster was considered to be a government distributed pin up, a lot more than the rugged female he'd first seen three days ago. It was a startling metamorphosis and judging by the rosy flush peeking out underneath Chief-Guard Domino's sunglasses_,_ one that hadn't been expected.

Law felt a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth as he absentmindedly fingered a piece of the clima tact. A sour expression settled onto the features of his newest charge. It was another one of those small, seemingly needless provocations that was intended to make a certain point. There was no use rising to the bait and _s_he knew it. Probably, this was why his long tanned fingers were rolling and caressing the metal rod: he was forcing her to acknowledge the futility of butting heads with him.

There was an awkward moment in which Domino and the guards clearly expected for something to happen that, surprisingly enough, didn't occur and in which the two pirates asked themselves what exactly everyone was waiting for.

"Aren't you..." one of the guards stage-whispered to Law, making a vague and embarrassingly hasty gesture in Nami's direction.

"Aren't I what?"

"Aren't you... y'know... going to shackle the prisoner?"

Involuntarily, Nami felt her spine stiffen. The memory of the slave collar rose inside of her mind, but before the image could truly thrust roots into her discomfort Law shook his head. The gesture was accompanied by a smile that was ten different shades of unsettling, particularly on the pirate's face.

"I don't think I'll be needing those. We'll be getting along just fine, won't we?"

His words were menacingly quiet and Law was content to see that they didn't fail to have the desired effect. The female pirate averted her gaze, even as (or because) he sought eye contact. Nami was incapable of verbally agreeing, not trusting her voice to remain steady. Instead, she gave a mute nod.

"She's a very agreeable woman," he drawled. The statement remained uncommented as Chief-Guard Domino took charge of the situation once more and ushered the group out of the stock room through another exit.

The following corridors held an air of vague familiarity to Nami, who thought she might have come this way before. Daylight hesitantly seeped into the wide, spacious corridors that now dominated the group's surroundings and a sudden giddiness bubbled up in the Straw Hat Pirate's stomach, unexpected and strong. They were finally nearing the exit and although she couldn't even see the gate, Nami thought she could already smell the salty tang of the sea and feel the season's cool breeze tugging at the soft hairs in the back of her neck. There was some conversation going back and forth between Law and Domino, but Nami couldn't bring herself to follow it, too intensely aware of every step she took towards her tentative freedom (she resolved to call it that for now because everything that didn't include Impel Down or slave collars absolutely deserved to be called freedom, no matter the accompanying circumstances).

Guards lined the expanses of these upper corridors in the same manner those in the below levels had and up ahead there were the towering shadows of the Prison Warden and his deputy_. _Their dark silhouettes were thrown into stark contrast against the ash gray winter sky and its low-hanging, steely clouds visible through the open gate. Beyond the gate, Nami could make out the dark uniforms of the Heart Pirates and their vibrant yellow sub-marine, docked up between two marine ships. And still they were going at this maddeningly slow pace that Domino set_. _It had become almost unbearable the moment Nami's brown eyes had caught sight of the open sky.

"You should commit this moment to memory," a low voice rumbled mockingly near her ear, just as the Prison Warden came into hearing range. He wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Do not lose this prisoner! I will make you responsible if you let her escape! Do you understand that, Trafalgar?"

The so-addressed rolled his eyes and responded with a careless wave, even as the pirates' escorts stopped dead in their tracks. Nami felt the Shichibukai's large hand close around her right wrist, dragging her along and through the gate as the warden sputtered.

"Yes, yes, we've been over this already," the Surgeon of Death snapped and with a not-so-gentle move shoved Nami towards his crew members. Softer, warmer hands caught her at the shoulder before she lost her footing and although the expression on their faces wasn't exactly welcoming, the navigator couldn't help but be slightly relieved at the sight of fresh faces and the distinct lack of Impel Down's drab uniform. One of the two men that had caught her wore sunglasses that gleamed under the bill of his all black casquette, whereas the other's face was thrown into shadows by his black-and-white cap. The word 'Penguin' was printed neatly on the white part in the cap's front. And then there was the ice bear, which was already moving to take the bags out of her hands. He did it with such implicitness, that Nami didn't even think to object although he uttered a quiet "Sorry" as he did so.

"We'll be taking our leave now, if you don't mind," Trafalgar Law said, offering a mocking salute into the general direction of the prison. There was a cry of protest.

"Wait! Aren't you forgetting something, Royal Shichibukai Trafalgar Law?"

The pause that followed was all that was needed for a feeling of dread to firmly settle in the pit of Nami's stomach. The pirate captain made a great show of looking thoughtful. For some reason, Nami thought that the other three pirates were looking at her with an uncomfortable seeming severity. "I'm sorry," Bepo mumbled just as Law's face broke into a slightly apologetic grin.

"Dear me, she's right. I'm sorry but this was so insignificant to me, it must have slipped my mind. Do forgive me, Miss Nami," Law said and in a long tradition of truly bad and uncaring actors, there was no doubt that despite his words_,_ this oversight had not been accidental. "As a precautionary measure, in the event that you should in fact decide that you do not care for the continued existence of that little village and somehow manage to escape from me, it was agreed that you were to give collateral of sorts."

"Collateral?" Nami said at length, turning to face the pirate captain fully.

"Indeed. We're going to leave your heart here. Just in case, you understand? It'll be returned to you once _you_ return to Impel Down."

For a staggering moment, Nami was relieved that _one of the Heart Pirates _was carrying her belongings at this very second because their weight surely would have dragged her down. Then the dam broke and anger overflowed. If that damned ice bear weren't carrying her bags, she'd have something - anything - to put up a fight. Something to throw at Trafalgar in the hopes that it would bash in his head and wipe that stupid grin off his face. But before the current of her rage could begin to pick up speed and launch her into action (for example forwards and with her hands outstretched, aiming for Law's throat), she felt herself being pulled backwards by firm but not cruel hands. She couldn't tell which of the two Heart Pirates was trying to restrain her, only that the person was kind enough to avoid grasping her still aching wrists and was holding her just below the elbows instead. Although in the long run, this might not have been consideration for her well-being and just an attempt to further immobilize her. It was futile, she knew it_,_ but that didn't stop her from trying to break free. Mindful of her shoes, Nami kicked her right leg back. Upon impact with something hard (she assumed it was a shin) there was a satisfyingly painful grunt which Nami made sure was followed by a yelp as she stomped on her captors foot with her heel. Infuriatingly enough, the hold on her arms didn't loosen, even as she twisted and wriggled, trying to make it harder to keep a hold of her.

Law made a chiding noise. "So childish," he admonished and gave a short, demanding nod to one of the pirates behind her. There was the barest hint of pressure against her shoulder, followed by excruciating pain shooting up and down her arms. A painful gasp escaped Nami's lips which seemed to satisfy the Surgeon of Death for the time being.

"If you hold still, it won't be any more painful than it has to be," the tanned man told her and Nami thought what he meant to say was "If you hold still I might not make thisas painful as I can". And although the prospect was there - what with his sadistic tendencies and her being more or less at his mercy right now - quite real and an immediate threat, she couldn't bring herself to stop struggling.

"Go to hell," she spat instead. Law's expression changed into an unexpected and threatening gleeful smirk. It dawned on Nami that he must have expected or hoped for such a response.

"The hard way, then," he declared, holding out his left where a spinning blue sphere was gathering.

Nami tried rocking back abruptly in a final attempt to break free, but the move must have been expected for the back of her head failed to connect to anything. Out of the corner of her eyes_,_ she caught sight of the sphere growing. At the same time, there was a pricking sensation and the feeling of something cold crawling through the veins of her right arm.

Law advanced towards where she stood_, _his face set into a grim expression that slowly began to blur before Nami's eyes_. _It was difficult to remain focused and although she knew it would be a waste of her effort, she sluggishly made a final attempt of breaking out of the vice-like hold on her arms. The last thing she was aware _of _was a strange echo thundering in her ears as a sudden darkness swallowed her world.

"Room."

* * *

**Notes: *** WARNING! Here be SPOILERS! *****

This story follows the Punk Hazard Arc up to Chapter 695. From this point onwards the story branches off from canon in the following points:

1) The kidnapping of Caesar Clown _failed_. Baby 5 succeeded in distracting the Straw Hat Pirates, Trafalgar Law, Smoker and the G-5 long enough for Babylon to make a run for it with Caesar. On his way back to Dressrosa, Babylon encountered Joker who pressed on towards Punk Hazard in order to retrieve his remaining allies and punish Trafalgar Law for his betrayal.

2) Arriving on Punk Hazard, Joker just happened to miss the Straw Hat Crew, which had set sail towards Green Bit, as planned. Despite Aokiji's interference, Joker managed to retrieve the bodies of his three fallen comrades.

3) On their way towards Green Bit, Luffy and Law have a falling out. The alliance failed to achieve its primary objective and trying to place the blame effectively breaks it. Although the Straw Hats drop Law off at Green Bit, where he reunites with his own crew.

Anything else will be explained in the next chapter, which I am sure you'll enjoy.

As a side note: I keep inserting references into the story for kicks and giggles, but so far, no one's caught any. Either my references are too obscure or I'm just doing it wrong. In this chapter, there's a reference to the Blues Brothers movie and several real-world fashion brands. If you can find any of those, let me know.


	4. Four

**Disclaimer**: I do not own or claim to own the story or associated characters of Eiichiro Oda's "One Piece". No profit is gained from the writing and publishing of this story, no copyright infringement intended. Should this story be deemed offensive by either the legal owners and/or representatives of One Piece, Mr Oda or this website, respectively, the story will of course be taken down immediately with full apologies extended.

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**Notes: **As always, my eternal thanks, admiration and gratitude go to **Kinjiru**, the very talented author of **_Heart Log_**, who does an awesome job as a beta reader and who, might I add, told me a few weeks ago that I should go ahead and post this even if I had not achieved my goal of finishing two chapters. Next time I shall listen to you.

A very special thank you to everyone who has been reading, rereading, reviewing, following, favoriting this story while waiting for an update. I do owe you all an apology – I was intending to make this a double update of chapters four and five (since four is so very short in comparison to the other chapters) but due to several events beyond my control chapter five is being written and a pace that would bore even snails. Family and work have no clue how seriously annoying they can be to fanfiction writers.

I'd promise you to do better in the future, but then I'd be lying. Expect updates to remain incredibly slow. My apologies.

Also: I have tried to keep him in character, but keep in mind that what you are about to read is usually for Law's eyes only so I figured a little creativity was alright. And yes, the date indicated is the date when I wanted it to be online, originally. And if it sounds like a totally made up word, it most certainly is… can you tell I like making up substances?

So… meet this story's side-characters aka my headcanon of the Heart Pirates (doubtlessly proven wrong within a few chapters already), see if you can spot the HP reference and please enjoy!

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**Four.**

_Wherein a man's thoughts are being untangled._

Personal log of Trafalgar Law, captain and surgeon of the 'Death'

February 5th

The crew is in continued good health. Requin's sprained shoulder has been doing well and I expect to put him on regular duty again in a week's time. Jean Bart and Narvalo will be relieved to get out of double-shifts in the engine room. The damage that was caused during Requin's accident has been mostly repaired but Narvalo tells me that the Death won't be able to dive to maximum depth until he gets his hands on a few spares. He assured me that obtaining them won't be an issue and I am inclined to trust my chief engineer in this respect.

Tricheco has still not given up on this bread issue. I am rather fond of the coffee filling in this melonpan, but I won't tell him. What's so hard to understand about me wanting a simple, normal breakfast, miso and all? You'd think a cook would be happy about cooking for someone who appreciates proper food.

Our stocks are running low on fish again. But now that we are finally sailing again – and no longer submerged – Bepo will probably ease up on the late night snacking.

The routine check of medical supplies has been brought in, too. Trust my pharmacist to hand in his weekly report before breakfast is served. And in person, no less. Cisco has pointed out that this week there are again unaccounted for discrepancies in our drug stock. This time we're missing socordian powder and three vials of valensen. Last week, it was clanculum, before that ululatin, tacituron, hexatinctillin and cetusquint. This is starting to look more and more like someone trying to recreate Messor in secret.

I have no problem with my crew experimenting on their own, but I don't like the fact that this is done in secret. There's a reason we have an above-average pharmacist on board. Cisco isn't the kind of guy who would talk up a storm just because he's being asked about the 12 uses of seaking blood, unless you get him started on the spot remover/oven cleaner thing. He's approachable and he doesn't mind explaining things over and over again.

He didn't say it, but I think he may be concerned. It's a bad sign when Cisco's concerned. It has me thinking.

Against all odds, Phoque has cleared out this week's betting pool. I am tempted to instigate another poker night before we dock the next time. I have been meaning to find a few things for my library.

Finally, the Cat has been released into my custody today. She put up quite the fight, evidence by the bruising of Shachi's left cnemial and the spraining of his right metatarsals. He is now convinced that that woman's shoes are positively lethal. I told him that he's blowing things out of proportions. If stiletto heels were deadly weapons, they would've been classified as such. Moreover, Mr. J would be selling them, and I know for a fact that he does not deal in footwear.

For someone who spent two and a half months in Impel Down, she seems to be in acceptable health, despite the medical conditions there being what they are. I noticed several abrasions and minor traumata on both acrocontractures, possibly caused by the cuffs of her shackles. Inflammations on both sides (all low-grade except right acrocontracture with sanies). Usual treatment, incl. tetanus shot. Cat's respiration sounds slightly off, too, but this might be due to the anesthesia. I'm probably not getting out of a full RHC either way; I'm expecting poor blood test results due to the recent malnourishment. She also has an unusual amount of old cicatrices on both hands - very noticeable against discoloration of fingertips, possibly from her long-term adducon acid poisoning (was the warden's a. a. contaminated?). This will require observation. I will not have that woman die just because the prison warden is an incompetent old fool. Thankfully, the removal of her heart caused no complications.

Overall, things went as planned. This should shut Emissary up for a while.

Currently, our course is set towards Sabaody Archipelago, where we'll restock on medical supplies and provisions before returning to the New World. Two Marine ships are escorting us. We will be sailing along the Tarai current for at least half a day in current weather conditions. Naturally, Bepo's been on deck ever since he got rid of the Cat's effects. All of this – let's call it expenditure - is because of the Cat. Of course. Although to be fair, calling her kitten would be more accurate since I stand by my opinion that the Straw Hats are merely a nautical kindergarten playing pirates. At best.

Once we return to the New World, I am 'under orders' to drop by the Marine Headquarters. Sakazuki, that old dog, has me picking up a spy of his choosing for the time that I'll be 'filling in as prison warden'. Of course he doesn't say it like that. Never does. He claims it's a 'necessity to ensure secure communication,' so we'll be taking on a 'trustworthy upstanding marine' he picked for me. There go my hopes of conveniently being unable to deliver weekly status updates on my progress. Never would've thought piracy could become this bureaucratic. Next thing they'll have me holding health speeches for the general public or something inane like that. Now I have to figure out a way to pull the wool over the Old Dog's eyes and that of his puppy. I really don't like having a marine spy on board, but I guess it can't be helped. Ever since Punk Hazard, my position with the Shichibukai has been shaky. Mr. J's pulling all the strings in his reach, but I haven't exhausted my resources yet.

Penguin suggested dealing with the puppy by hiding in plain sight. I'm loath to admit it, but this might be my best shot. If we can convince the puppy that there are no secrets in the first place, we should be in the clear. I have to discuss this with Penguin and Shachi. They might be able to work something out until we can get rid of the puppy. And I do hope it's a guy. Or – if it's a she – fugly. Fugly as hell. I don't really want the estrogen brigade aboard. It's bad enough having the Cat here, but two pretty – no, not going there. Should've asked Plume for some background information so I'd know what to expect.

Of course, knowing my luck it'll end up being that whatshername of a marine captain who tags along with the White Hunter. I don't know whether I'll be able to restrain myself from killing the little weakling. It'll be self-defense. My peace of mind is infinitely more valuable and precious than her life. At least to me.

Maybe if we go for an 'open arms' approach? Yes, this could actually work. As long as it isn't that weakling.

Rumor has it that Mr. J's still unable to deliver his laughs. Building a production site is simple enough; finding a safe place for it isn't. It's not like there's an infinite amount of places like Punk Hazard. I also have it in good authority that Mr. J is under very close scrutiny. The Old Dog's been keeping an eye on him. Personally, even. This makes me grin every time I think about it.

I'm betting Mr. J is grinding his teeth whenever he does. Who would've thought there's joy to be had in knowing that a Marine takes his job seriously?

Supposedly, CC hasn't recovered from that beating he received from the Balloon. I highly doubt that. The medical staff in Dressrosa is far from being that incompetent. I was trained with some of those surgeons and nurses, so I should know. CC is probably playing it up just because; I wonder why Mr. J lets him. This is very unlike him.

There have been no laughs for almost 6 months. Whatever stock he's had must have dwindled to nothing shortly after I destroyed the SAD production room. Mr. J should be nervous by now. His grip on the underworld is starting to slip, too. All because he no longer has the means to produce his cheap knock-offs. The Beast wasn't all that understanding, either, although he knew everything about the plan. He even suggested it, but as expected, that makes no difference to the likes of him. Right now, Mr. J is being put under a lot of pressure. I wonder how he likes it. He doesn't seem to be putting up with it too well, though that might be just a charade to lull us into a false sense of security.

Oddly enough, Beast seems to be more pleased about this than I am. They weren't kidding when they said he hated the Red-Haired. Unfortunately they also weren't kidding when they said that patience was none of his virtues. That man is impossible! He has been demanding the Balloon's head again. I feel that this getting a little old. He thinks he can order me around like one of his pets. I may have bought some time and leeway with obtaining the Cat, but I won't count on it. I know that Beast is not easy to please. There was no reason to threaten me with disembowelment, although I was genuinely surprised he knew the word. I would have picked him for a 'gutting' type of person.

I am not too happy being put under pressure like this, but I need quick results. For both sides, if this thing is going to work.

While I don't care for all that mumbo-jumbo he sprouts, Emissary has been sending me warnings again. It's annoying and completely uncalled for. Most of it doesn't even make sense! Even more annoying is that he expects me to believe all that. I think Plume's been tattling on me - he's become quite cozy with Beast (or the other way round) and there is no other way Emissary could know. I wish he'd just shut up and focus on the others.

Anyway, now that I've got the Cat, negotiations with the Balloon should be easy enough. All I have to do is find him. And now that I've got his navigator, this should be a walk in the park.

For the time being, I'm having her separated from the crew. Officially, she's still a prisoner and I don't want her mingling with the puppy if I can avoid it; especially not unsupervised. I'm also not letting a known flirt alone with my crew. They're hopeless as soon as a pretty face pops up. Ergo I have arranged for her to be confined to the brig. It's actually the first time the ship's brig is being used for its actual purpose. Jean's volunteered to furbish it. I've reminded him that this isn't a hotel and the Cat no guest, but apparently it's his way of repaying the Balloon. Can't really say anything against that – he still does owe him half his gratitude. My only worry is that he'll end up taking things too far. He's that kind. Now that I think about it, I wonder where he put all those odds and ends we've been bunkering in the brig up till now.

Hopefully the Cat really can locate the Balloon. It'll be extremely unfortunate should she turn out to be waste of my time – and space. I am not at all certain that even his closest crew members can safely predict Balloon's actions or thought patterns. Provided there is any thinking going on in the goofball's head. Of course if all else fails, she's still going to be a convenient bargaining chip, which I'll be needing in any case. Except I really wouldn't have had to go to such lengths as to having her released from Impel Down in that case. Empty promises would have worked just as well.

Of course Emissary – I cannot believe that this is the fourth time I am writing about him in a single entry. I have just gone back several pages and Emissary pops up in almost every one of them. He's even more annoying than Balloon and that is saying quite a lot. Either way, he is convinced that I am 'destined to form a union' with the Cat. I am assuming he's been spending too much time ogling her wanted poster and inhaling questionable fumes. All that incense will end up fogging your brain eventually through lack of oxygen, which makes for interesting thoughts. This might be how he does his little card trick, come to think of it. Unfortunately, not even Emissary (six), high on whatever it is he likes to take, can tell me what I really need to know.

There have been absolutely no news on the Balloon's whereabouts for over three weeks now. Beast and the Old Dog are both clueless, too. This is a novelty. Usually at least one of them has a vague idea where the Supernovas are at any given time. Except, of course, Balloon, who clearly lives to be the goddamn exception to every goddamn rule there is. I don't expect him to pop up in the newspaper daily, but I would appreciate a sign of life or something similar. Just this once, it would be wonderful if the Balloon wouldn't mess up my plans. I don't like putting my head on the line as a general rule, but with Beast and the Old Dog, there's only so far they're willing to trust me without some 'real' commitment. And they've both taken to bossing me around. I hate that I can't do anything about that right now.

The last I heard from them was that the Straw Hats had increased their demand for Princess Vivi's ransom. I keep wondering why Balloon's holding the princess hostage, but I can't figure it out for the life of me. Kidnapping isn't Balloon's thing. He's not the marauding, pillaging and plundering type of pirate. And I doubt he knows what a gross national product is, which bears the question why he asked for several times Alabasta's GNP as ransom in the first place. Maybe he's broke? This wouldn't be all that surprising or unusual, now that I think of it. Balloon has the attention span of gnat. Someone needs to set this guy's priorities straight.

Shachi tells me the princess is quite popular (he even has a photo; go figure, she's pretty), good reputation, educated, kind to everyone, etc. – basically fairy tale material. I don't think that's true. Balloon actually cares for that sort of person; he doesn't go around fighting or kidnapping them. I wonder what kind of skeleton the princess has hidden in that closet of hers to get Balloon all fired up like that. It might come in handy knowing this. Does the Cat know? She probably won't tell me even if I ask, but I could always have fun making her talk. I'm sure the Old Dog will appreciate me returning the Cat housebroken.

Things have gotten so frustratingly complicated. If the Balloon hadn't been too stupid to follow the plan, neither Mr. J nor Beast would be a problem anymore. We would've taken them both down already. We'd probably be working on taking out the Glutton by now. Instead, we are still stuck trying to find a crack in Beast's security and keeping Mr. J busy. I don't know how much longer Plume will hold out, but Ironman seems to be content killing the time by sinking ships at random. And Cherry is getting impatient, which is a rather ungrateful move on her part after all the things I have done for her out of the sheer goodness of my heart. Alright, maybe that's laying it on too thick.

I have finally decided to tell the others that I'm against having Balloon as a full member of our alliance. I don't see him contributing anything worthwhile, no matter from which angle I look at it. He's cannon fodder and muscle, but so is Bon Vivant (even more so). Only Emissary (seven) has responded and of course he is all in favor of having Balloon join us because of that card mumbo-jumbo he does. I might have to remind him that he's supposed to pull Wingman and Bon Vivant into the fold, not play around with his silly cards.

I can't allow anyone to mess this up for me. If I can't get it right this time, I'm well and truly screwed.


	5. A note from Cherish Cherries

Dear Reader,

You are reading this instead of a new chapter because I, the (for lack of better term) author, felt it was prudent to give you an update on why there is no real update available for this story.

My mother has been fighting breast cancer for over a decade - relentlessly and admirably. She's taken part in studies that would not benefit her but other, future patients, kept pushing herself through treatment, marching on even when she lost the tactile senses in her hands and feet or her short-term memory began to detoriate and she's always, always told us that it was important to remember that every morning she woke up was a precious gift because she wrestled it away from her illness.

In June, there were no more days left to wrestle away from her adversary.

While my mother was hospitalized, it became known that my aunt, who carries a pacemaker, has always developed cancer. The diagnosis was made 2 years ago but for some reason never reached any of the doctors treating her and her heart condition (we still cannot believe this, it's surreal). Within the last weeks, the affliction literally sapped her dry. She passed away yesterday, following my mother by precisely 8 weeks. I am and have always been very close to my family and losing my aunt, who literally never stood a fighting chance, so shortly after losing my mother is pure agony.

I want to write, but I can't and putting up this note feels like I am surrendering to the drama and giving up. I am not. I am taking a time out because I am not myself at the moment.

Thank you for understanding.


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